


Celestial Ciphers- Third Cipher: Codex of the Sun

by SonjaJade



Series: Celestial Ciphers [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Covert Operation, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, Politics, Secret Identity, Smuggling, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3757693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final cipher reveals a country divided in half, and the distance between the two halves seems far too great to bridge.  While those backing Emperor Ling prosper and find happiness despite the threat of an imminent battle, those standing with the rebel Hong Chen go to bed hungry, cold, and terrified that they’ll be called up to serve as infantry in the madman’s army.  Once Hong makes up his mind to finally strike, the devastation rains down on Shang-Po, altering the cityscape forever and staining the ground with the blood of many men.  Meanwhile, a lone assassin hell-bent on destroying the Hong army from the inside begins to encounter trouble on his personal quest to seek revenge for the son he lost in one of the first attacks.  The battle comes right inside the capitol gates in this final installment of the series.  Will Emperor Ling find a way to quash the insurgents or will Shang-Po go up in flames?  Open the seal on the Codex of the Sun to discover the fate of the Xingese nation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. MAPS

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this project for a long time, and once I finished it, I couldn't wait for the FMA Big Bang fest to open for submissions, so this will be submitted at first without illustrations. I expect to have at least one at some point- in the meantime, enjoy the last part of this long story!

 

 


	2. PROLOGUE

The day he escaped had been awful. Blinding snow, cutting winds, well below freezing temperatures. But he was warm and toasty inside his hiding place. About fifteen feet below the frozen ground, Hoi Bawa had transmuted a cave complete with ventilation and a latrine. He’d snuck off from the tent Hong Chen had given him, desperate to get away from the man who wanted to combine oxen with men in order to take the throne from Emperor Ling. Healing the young man’s mother had been one thing, but bolstering an army he did not support was another.

 After a dozen men had been transformed, Bawa decided he had to be more diligent in getting away, and ideally be able to make it out alive. The late spring blizzard was a perfect cover. As hard as the snow was falling, covering his tracks was easy enough. But finding shelter in such a storm was nearly impossible. When he began to lose feeling in his feet, he stopped and quickly dug down to the ground, drew a transmutation circle, and opened a hole in the earth and dropped down. Another circle later and he was warmly encased in a dark earthen cave.

 He had flint and steel in his pouch, and he felt around the dirt walls until he gathered enough roots from the trees overhead to alchemically shred into kindling. With that light, he found more wood, and once he had a good fire going, he stretched out on a pilfered blanket he’d hidden in his coat.

 “What to do now?” he said aloud. If Hong found him, he’d likely be executed on the spot. That, or forced to make more chimaeras at gun point. But if he could get to the Peony Palace, they might not let him in. Everyone in the country knew war was imminent when Shang-Po was closed to all visitors.

 But if he could get to the palace, he might be able to plead his case to someone. After all, he was the fabled Hoi-sama. And hadn’t Emperor Ling sent for him before his coronation anyway? Or maybe he dreamed that… It was hard to say, his mind was so fuzzy these days when it came to remembering important details. He was one hundred and three years old after all.

 His white hair glowed yellow in the firelight. He chuckled as he rolled his back to face the fire and to try and get some sleep. His mother, long dead and gone now, had told him his father had yellow hair. She also said he was who gave him his gift to be able to manipulate the ground and stones. “Your father did a magical kind of alkahestry, something called _alchemy_ ,” she’d told him when he was older. “He had brilliant gold hair, golden eyes, and a kind heart. You’re more like him than you’ll ever know.”

 He remembered the way she smiled whenever she spoke of him. She lamented that she discovered her pregnancy after he left, but tossed it up to fate. She’d said Ong-Xu had other plans for the man. Bawa would have loved to have met him, to get to know the man who came from the desert with pale white skin and gold features. He wondered if their eyes were the same shade of gold. It was hard to say.

 “Ho-een-heim,’ he said quietly. His mother had taken the shortened ‘Hoi’ for their clan name, the only two Hois in all of Xing. They did not have a representative for the Emperor’s Challenge, were not recognized by any of the other clans, and owned no land… Of course he was in favor of a united Xing.

 He snuggled into his bedroll and sighed. It was settled then. He would sleep now, eat when he woke, and continue toward the palace underground until he was a safe distance away and could resurface. He drifted easily to sleep, dreaming of his mother and a bearded blond man he’d never met.

* * *

Ten days later, Bawa nearly drowned when his underground pathway opened on a river. After sealing it shut (and barely saving himself enough air to breathe), he transmuted a small opening to gauge his position. He was probably right beside the Ghunqua River, more south than he really wanted to be, but at least a very safe distance from Hong’s men.

 He emerged near a large tree, thankful for fresh air and sunshine again. It took him a moment to get his bearings, but he knew the palace was still at least another week to twelve days travel on foot. He could follow the river to the next town and make a decision on which way to go from there.

 He scribbled a transmutation circle on a rock near the water’s edge and activated it. A small area of the riverbed surged and tossed three fish up onto the bank. He took one of the smaller ones and stuck on a stick, then made a fire and roasted it, thankful to eat something besides ‘root soup’. He looked around as the fish cooked. The snow was either all melted here or it didn’t snow at all. In any case, though it was chilly along the water, it wasn’t anything like it had been the freezing night he’d left.

 Just after nightfall, he reached an inn who agreed to let him stay the night in exchange for cleaning up the kitchen. He was able to wash his hair in the cold pump out back and wipe down with a warm washrag before bed, and in the morning he caught a ride in the direction of the palace on the back of a butcher’s cart.

 Travelling was easy on the Emperor’s side of the country. On Hong’s side, bandits roamed unchecked and it was dangerous to go anywhere, sometimes dangerous to even stay home. He noted as they passed through a particularly rural area how healthy everyone seemed to be. He expected gaunt, thin faces with sad scowls to greet them. Instead, he found bright eyes, wide smiles and cheerful waving as the butcher’s wagon passed. Apparently the loss of several families had not stopped Emperor Ling from going forward with his plan to care for every Xingese citizen who remained loyal to him.

 The butcher, who called himself Riyo, stopped in a merchant’s village four days east of Shang-Po. “I wish I could take you further, but this my turnaround point.” He bowed to the old man. “I wish you a safe journey, old man.”

 Hoi returned the sentiment of safety and bowed in return. “Many thanks for the ride! May Ong-Xu bless you for your kindness!” He watched the man tend to his customers and he began walking in the direction of the palace. His journey was relaxing and uneventful, lots of walking interspersed with talking to friendly villagers along the way. On the fifth day, he caught a glittering glimpse of the top of the Golden Tower. He’d made it to Shang-Po at long last.

* * *

 A warm spring breeze gently moved the curtains in Hong Yi’s room. She looked at the window and said a prayer of thanks to the goddess of spring.

 “Thank you for bringing the fowers back to us, Jincana.” Her speech had greatly improved since arriving at the palace months ago. She was considered a prisoner, but she was treated kindly and well kept in a nice room in the Peony Palace, and not in its dungeons. The Emperor had assured her it was for her own safety, and the priestess who’d carried and borne her adopted son had sworn that she would be protected should the false Emperor make an attempt to seize the city.

 Afterward, there’d been a difficult and awkward conversation with the priestess. It dealt with Yi’s relationship with Hong… and Yi’s shame that she’d almost looked forward to when he’d take her in the night.

 “You must understand, Chen would beat me… For a rong time, he would even hurt me when he took me to his bed. But when I tode him I was pregnant, he changed. He became gentuh with me. He made rove to me, made me want him… And he started to feed me better and then had Hoi-sama fix my mouth.”

 The priestess seemed unsurprised by her son’s actions. “How did you convince him you were with child?” she asked.

 She shook her head. “I honestry don’t know. I suppose it’s possibuh he can’t sense _ki_.” She apologized to the woman, bowing down and touching her forehead to the floor. “You gave me your baby, and I trury tried my best to raise him propery… I don’t know what went wrong and I’m not sure how to stop him.”

 She felt the priestess’ hands on her back, patting and soothing. “It’s as much my fault as it is yours. Wu is as much to blame as well. We were so in love that it was hard to ignore our feelings for each other. We should have used some discretion and been truer to the law.”

 Yi was sitting up and wiping at her eyes when a knock rang through her room. Guards were entering and the Emperor’s Dragon was with them. His face was kind as he addressed her.

 “Yi-san, I’ve been informed that a man claiming to be Hoi-sama has arrived at the gates. He’s being escorted to the dungeons right now, but seeing how you saw the man first hand, I’d like for you to accompany me so you may identify him.” He stuck his hand out. “Please, come with us?”

 She took his hand and by the time they neared the prisoner’s cell, her eyes were dry and clear. “He was a short, ode man,” she told the Dragon. “He was bent over a wittuh, but didn’t wok with a cane. White headed of course, with a wong beard…”

 The Dragon laughed. “I’ve heard he’s the oldest man in Xing!”

 Yi nodded. “I think he might be, Dragon-sama.”

 They rounded the corner to where the man was chained by the neck to a huge iron ball in the floor.

 “Yi-sama!” the man said gaily, as if he weren’t chained up like livestock. “How is your mouth, My Lady?”

 She smiled at the man. “I am much better now, Hoi-sama! You are trury a miracuh worker!”

 He laughed. “Those L’s are hell, My Lady. Keep working on it and you will be doing tongue twisters in no time!”

 She looked at the Dragon to confirm the man’s identity and she paused. “Is something wrong, Dragon-sama?”

 The Golden Dragon looked spooked, as if he were looking at a ghost. One of his soldiers approached him. He held up his hand and said he was alright.

 Hoi–sama spoke. “I’ve never met another person with gold eyes before,” he said quietly.

 The Dragon was silent a moment, then he approached the old mystic. He knelt down before him. “My brother and I both have gold eyes. And I’ve never met a Xingese person with eyes like mine.” He studied the man’s lined face. “Tell me, Hoi-sama… How old are you?”

 He smiled and answered. “One hundred and three, my Lord.”

 He turned to her. “Do you vouch for his identity, Yi-san?” he asked impatiently.

 Taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, she quickly answered, “Y-yes, My Dord. This is Hoi-sama, as he says.”

 The Dragon turned back toward the old man, ordering his soldiers to escort Yi back to her room and leave him and Hoi-sama in private. Bewildered, she followed the men as they’d been instructed. She asked quietly, “What was that about?”

 The soldiers ignored her, and Yi hoped the nervous churning would cease, and that Hoi-sama wasn’t on his way to the gallows.

* * *

Bawa was calm when the young Dragon sat down in front of him, a thousand questions flitting behind his bright gold eyes. “What’s troubling you, My Lord? Have I done something to offend you already?”

 He frowned and shook his head. “I’m not offended. I’m sort of confused and surprised. Very surprised, in fact.” He struggled to find the words to begin, and then at last he spoke. “I’ve heard you do a different kind of alkahestry, something no one else in this country seems to be able to grasp. Is that true?”

 Bawa’s laughter was light. “Of course, My Lord! That’s how I earned the name Hoi- _sama_ , because I can perform tricks that alkahestrists cannot!”

 The Dragon nodded. “And who _taught_ this art to you?”

 He tapped his chin. “I don’t really recall being _taught_ , per se. My mother used to say I was born with the knowledge. She told me I just started drawing circles one day and things started happening, things that were different from alkahestry.” He leveled his gaze at the young man. “May I ask why you’d like to know?”

 Instead, he was asked if he had chalk. “Of course, I have loads of it on me.” He reached into a pocket and withdrew a stick of it. He watched as the Emperor’s Dragon drew a perfect circle on the floor, filled it in with a spectacular array, and tugged an ornate stone vase straight from the stones beneath them.

 Bawa whistled. “That’s quite impressive!”

 Then, he watched him clap his hands, touch the vase and returned to the floor as if he’d never raised it in the first place. Bawa leaned forward, touching the floor and gaping at the man before him. “How… How did you do that without a circle?”

 The boy swallowed and he murmured, “I was born with the same talent, from my father… My brother and I committed the ultimate sin with our art- alchemy. Because of the things that happened afterward, he and I were granted the gift of being able to transmute without a circle.”

 Bawa was taken aback. What he did had a name? And there were rules? “What did you do, My Lord?”

 “We tried to resurrect our dead mother. I paid with my body. Brother paid with his leg, then he paid with his arm to get my soul bonded to a suit of armor. It took us years to get our bodies back- and even then, Brother’s leg will be gone forever.” He looked up. “The reason you’ve surprised me so much though, isn’t because of your alchemy. It’s not your age.” He took a breath. “It’s your resemblance to my father, Van Hohenheim… You look exactly like him if he’d been older… Your beard grows from your face in the same lines, your hair is in a very similar style… You must’ve had his height and build as well in your younger days.”

 Hohenheim… The name of the man whose loins had produced him unto his mother’s womb. “My Lord, there is no way we could share a father. I am over one hundred years old and you are not even twenty.”

 “My father was not an ordinary man. He was the victim of an alchemical event and was made virtually immortal… Hoi-sama, he told me he was in Xing about a hundred years ago, that he loved a woman before my mother. Her name was Tsu Fei-”

 Bawa’s eyes widened. How could the Golden Dragon possibly know his mother’s name? Their village was far away and had no paper records of any kind. His mother had passed on nearly eighty years ago now… _How could he know?_

 “Hoi-sama… Is your name a shortened Xingese form of Hohenheim?”

 The celebrated Golden Dragon had overcome the stigma of being foreign and serving Xing, he’d won the favor of the sick and the poor with his personal attention to making sure the sick had medicine and the entire country had food and quality shelter… But could Hoi Bawa trust him with his secret? That he had been the son of the Western Sage?

 He looked the young man in the eye. “This is the name I’ve had all my life, my Lord. I know not where it comes from.”

 “He’s lying,” this from his Celestial Highness.

“Emperor Ling!” Bawa cried as he tried to prostrate himself.

 “I can tell in your _ki_ that what you just said was a lie. Why would you lie to my Dragon?” he asked sternly.

 He answered honestly, “Xing is at war. It’s difficult to know who are your allies and who are your enemies, My Lord. I’m not sure how that information could be used against me, but how do I know who to trust with that knowledge, especially when the person who asks has me bound and chained in the royal dungeon?”

The emperor conceded to his argument, then nodded to the Dragon. The golden man clapped his hands, touched the shackle at Bawa’s throat and it split in half, clattering to the floor. Another clap and he touched the yoke that bound his hands. He was freed from his restraints and looking at the Emperor gratefully.

 “My apologies, Hoi-sama. You are right- war makes it difficult to distinguish friend and foe. We certainly do not mean you any harm, not when I sent for you so many months ago. And not when it seems you are another elder brother to my good friend and Dragon.”

 The Emperor smiled at both of them, and the Dragon finally let a grin bloom on his lips. “Another brother. Ed’s gonna shit bricks when he hears the news.”

 “‘Ed’, My Lord?” Bawa asked.

 “ _Our_ brother, Edward. He and I grew up together, inseparable until I was summoned for duty here. Our family name was Elric, from our mother.” He stood and bowed to him. “I am Elric Alphonse, Hoi-sama. I am very pleased and honored to make your acquaintance.”

 


	3. CHAPTER ONE

One hundred and thirty-seven days. That was how long the first child to sleep in Lan Fan’s belly occupied her womb. The maternal senses that had awoken in her during that time began to sense something was wrong around the one hundred and thirty-fourth day. His movements became less frequent, then softer and gentler until he hardly moved at all. Though Lan Fan couldn’t be certain, it seemed as if his _ki_ were growing quieter and quieter as well… Then came the night she awoke sweating, cramping, bleeding, and panicking- his _ki_ had gone silent.

Her labor was short, but very painful. When it was over, her son lay lifeless in Mei’s hands. Alkahestry couldn’t save him, Al refused to do human transmutation, though no one blamed him. They wouldn’t let her touch her own son. They’d been afraid she would catch something that would make it harder for her to conceive again. But Mei was kind enough to show her the tiny face that would never open his eyes.

He was gray, the beginnings of dark hair plastered to his tiny head. He had Ling’s high cheekbones and his hands were no bigger than her thumbnail. Huilang wrapped his little body in blessed white silk and tied it with red silk rope into a funerary shroud, and that was the last she saw of her baby.

She’d mourned for weeks, though it felt like years. She wasn’t aware she could cry so many tears for someone she’d only met briefly. Ling was right beside her, every teardrop of the way, shedding many tears of his own with her. The night the priestesses and monks had blessed them for the fertility festival, they spent the first few hours in their bed wondering if they should even try for another baby. They held each other under heavy blankets and wondered if they could bear it should the gods decide they lose the next baby as well. In the end, they did make love- the first time since losing their son. They did so only once, and they were both crying afterward.

Two days later, she felt the twinge of new life in her belly once again, but thankfully, her tears were tears of joy, Ling’s as well. It was as if the sun remembered to shine on them. The day those first flickers of life pulsed inside her body, she and Ling went immediately to the Golden Temple and made offerings of thanks. And on the way back to the palace, they stopped at the people’s shrine and made offerings to both Kyojimei and Gan-Yi as well. Word spread through the capitol like wildfire, and the people began to celebrate.

Now, one hundred and thirty-eight days after she became aware of the _ki_ in her womb, another celebration was raging in Shang-Po’s streets. This child had survived longer than her first, and the midwife said she could sense no trouble with this pregnancy at all.

She washed her hands in a basin next to Lan Fan’s bed. “Everything looks perfect, My Lady,” she said with a smile. “His heartbeat is strong and his _ki_ is stronger. As always, come find me at the first sign of trouble. This child will live, I swear it.”

Lan Fan smiled. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You’ve been so helpful.” She watched as the old woman bowed low and then turned to leave. Some of the worry that had been present at the beginning of her pregnancy had started to finally fade, and she took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. Her hands came to her stomach, already bowing out from her body, larger than she had been with her first baby.

She smiled at the vision of her hands resting on a healthy stomach. “I _can_ wait to meet you, my son. Please stay safely inside me, keep growing.”

The door to her chambers opened and Ling entered. He was beaming, and Lan Fan couldn’t help but smile at him. He looked as if _he_ were the glowing one. His hand splayed across the silks covering where their son lay.

“All good news, I hope?” he asked anxiously.

“Yes! He’s healthy and strong, perfect in every way.” He took her into his arms and held her. “We should give thanks at the temple soon.”

Ling nodded in agreement. “I’ll send for the carriage and we’ll go right away, before the feast and festivities begin.” He kissed her before cupping her cheek. “I’ve got the finest dancers and entertainers I could find on this side of the river. There’s a talented woman who does a steel hoop performance, and a troupe of glaive and fan dancers. I think you and our son will enjoy them very much.”

“That sounds wonderful, qin ai de. I’m very much looking forward to it,” she said, smiling at him.

He quickly kissed her again. “Why don’t we show off our good fortune?” he said, offering her his arm. “Care to walk to the stables with me?”

Thankful for the exercise, she agreed and slipped her arm into his. The servants and guards smiled at her, congratulating them both with low bows. The palace was busy and cheerful, a blessed change from nearly nine months ago. From September to almost January, the palace was dark and somber, quiet as a tomb apart from Lan Fan’s own sobbing. To see it alive again was refreshing.

Ling guided her carefully down the steps into the large stables attached to the eastern side of the palace. The head hostler immediately approached.

“My Lord, what can I do for you this day?” he asked, bowing low.

“Ready Xuě and his white carriage. We’re going to the Temple of Ong-Xu to give thanks.”

“Right away My Lord, My Lady!” he said, bowing again before racing across the packed dirt floor to the white stallion’s stall, hollering out orders to bring out the small royal carriage to the other barn workers. The Emperor and Empress watched as the horse was coupled quickly and led over to where they stood. Ling thanked his stable hands and then picked Lan Fan up and put her in the carriage to be sure she didn’t fall or trip while trying to enter it. Once they were seated, the driver went right to work and took them out of the barn and through the palace gates.

Ling held her hand and smiled at her. “I’ve got some good news, as well. Hoi-sama finally arrived.”

Lan Fan was surprised that the ancient man was still alive. “That is good news. It only took him, what, a year to get here?”

Ling chuckled. “Well, he was detained by my Hong brother. He finally made his escape over two weeks ago. And that’s not even the best part!” He paused a moment to thank a random citizen who was shouting congratulations to him and Lan Fan concerning the baby. “Remember how Al’s father was a living philosopher’s stone and made seemingly immortal?”

Lan Fan nodded. Of course she knew, how could she forget such an incredible and beautiful creature as Hohenheim-sama.

“Well, Al told me once that his father had wandered all over the planet in those four hundred and fifty years he’d been living. And before he settled down in Amestris with Al and Ed’s mother, he was in Xing. Supposedly he left a little over one hundred years ago.” His eyes gleamed, as if he were enjoying the delivery of his secret information to her. “I met Hoi-sama for the first time today. He has golden eyes like Al and Ed…”

Lan Fan’s eyes widened. “You mean he’s one of Hohenheim-sama’s children?”

“He even looks like him, his beard is grown out in the same shape, he’s got the same nose and eyes- and Al figured out that Hoi is a shortened form of Hohenheim. He and Hoi-sama are half brothers.”

“For some reason, I don’t think that’s going to make Edward very happy…” she said thoughtfully. “I get the feeling he’s easily upset thinking his father may have had more than one woman in his life.”

Ling nodded. “His feelings won’t change facts though. And there’s no mistake about those distinct features.” The Temple gates were in sight now. “Al is taking him from the dungeon-”

“The dungeon?” Lan Fan asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“You know the guards interrogate anyone they don’t recognize immediately. How were they to know he was truly Hoi-sama?”

He had a point- they were at war and no one could be trusted these days. “Yes, and since so much time has passed between when you first sent for him and his arrival, I can see why that should be the first place he was brought to.”

“Anyway, Alphonse is having him moved to one of the guest chambers. He’ll be joining us at our feast table.”

She smiled. “I look forward to meeting him. His presence here is a good thing.”

The driver slowed the carriage and turned so that the Emperor and Empress could exit right into the temple gates without any unnecessary steps. Ling exited first and plucked Lan Fan from the door to set her safely on her feet. He once again offered her his arm and they strode toward the shrine house to be blessed and purified. Once that was done, they solemnly walked toward the temple doors, bowing deeply before entering.

Huilang was inside, making a sacred ring of peony petals, rosemary, clover blossoms and dried stinging nettles. “I have seen a vision,” she said, looking up from her work. She motioned for them to enter the ring as the temple doors were closed. Ling helped Lan Fan to sit down on the cushions there and then joined her once Huilang was finished making the prayer ring.

Ling asked quietly, “What have you seen?”

A frown graced her face. “I saw a fierce and bloody battle, many lives lost, an attack on the palace…” She looked up and smiled then. “But after it was over, I saw peace and heard a baby born laughing. I know it’s not much- and battles are to be expected when a nation is at war… But I distinctly heard the sound of an infant- not crying, but laughing immediately after the last shout of pain from Lady Fan… On this special day, take this vision as a promise from Ong-Xu for a healthy and safe delivery for your son.”

Lan Fan knew the woman was capable of lying and lying well- she’d done it for decades when it came to false omens concerning Hong Chen and leading the people to do the Emperor’s bidding. She’d even done it for Ling when it came to the radical changes they’d brought to their enormous country. But The Empress could read Huilang’s _ki_ and could tell that her words were honest. She bowed forward until her forehead touched the floor, weeping with joy. She felt Ling’s arms around her back, his voice whispering prayers of thanks as Huilang lit incense and chanted a meditation for gratitude. Their god had given her a sign that she shouldn’t worry about her boy anymore. They could decide on a name now without worrying that it might jinx them, could commission a cradle from the craftsmen, gowns from the seamstresses… Lan Fan was afraid to hope, afraid to even think this baby might live, so fearful that something would happen to this pregnancy as well, that she was unable to truly smile and enjoy the experience of her progressing motherhood. Her son would be _safe_ and _healthy_ \- **_alive_**.

When the incense was burned down, the high priestess swept the ringing materials up and placed them into a red and gold silk bag, asked Ling and Lan Fan to each put in a nugget of cannabis they chose as most fit for Ong-Xu, and they took the bag together to the eternal fire burning at the foot of the golden statue. They lingered a moment, allowing the herbs and smoke to cleanse their minds and strengthen their spirits.

Huilang blessed them personally with sacred oils, tying an ornately embroidered blue ribbon around the Empress’ stomach to hold a blessing charm over the baby, and sent them back to the palace.

“You’ll be joining us at the feast, yes?” Lan Fan asked.

“It would be my honor, My Lady.”

Lan Fan couldn’t help herself. She bowed low before the priestess, taking her hands and holding them tightly. “Thank you so much for the wonderful news, Huilang-san.”

The poor woman seemed to be beside herself with embarrassment. She stammered out that _she_ wasn’t really the one to thank, that Ong-Xu was. Finally she relented and said she was happy to convey the word of the gods to them, especially if it meant this much relief for their young and growing family. When Lan Fan rose, she _hugged_ the woman, so thankful for her reassurance.

Ling squeezed her shoulders and guided her to thread her arm through his once more as he led them from the Temple of Ong-Xu. “This is one of the best days of my life,” he commented before they reached the carriage. “We have truly been blessed, once again.”

“So many prayers have been said on our behalf, I would like to say some prayers for all of Xing at the people’s shrine. It seems selfish to ask for prayers for ourselves when so many have shared theirs with us.” Her Lord and husband agreed. She gazed happily at her hands resting on her belly, and Ling’s joined them a moment later. Her face felt close to breaking from smiling. It was a wonderful ache that dissipated the last of her worries away.

* * *

Minatu, much to Nui’s dismay, was lovely in the early summertime. Tall trees whispered in the wind, May’s bright sunshine kept the clouds away mostly, the paddies were curving and fertile, and the wide stream that flowed near the stables ran clear and cold. To make matters worse, some of the men he’d invisibly placed targets on were genuinely kind, at least to him. It didn’t matter though. They were sworn allies to Hong Chen and Nui was sworn to Emperor Yao. In the end he would either kill all his targets or be discovered before he could finish.

Hong hadn’t ordered them to move yet. They were training, firing Drachman weaponry into all hours of the day and night, wasting rounds to improve accuracy and speed of shot. Nui suspected part of it was biding his time, but he also knew how much the man worried about his mother- the woman Nui had met in the fall while trying to move Hong’s army from a nameless camp in the woods to Minatu. Despite the awkward relationship the officers described them having, Hong seemed to genuinely miss her and worry for her health and safety, and the health of a child that Nui knew couldn’t have even existed. He was a master of reading _ki_. There was only one life energy emanating from Hong Yi, and it was her own.

Despite Hong appearing to be devoid of drive to attack Emperor Yao, being stationary had its bonuses. For one, food was pretty plentiful, and it was easy to raise enough to feed everyone when they’d overtaken a sprawling Phuong farm. It was good exercise for the soldiers to work the fields and tend to the livestock. It also meant the heads of the families who supported Hong could make a pilgrimage to see him and deliver gifts of gold, wine, and women. Life was easy, considering they were at war.

But that didn’t mean Nui didn’t want to go home. He decided he needed to help speed up Hong’s defeat by taking out his captains one by one, until the fledgling army had no leaders but him… And then he would lead the charge on Hong himself, telling the men that Hong was planning on selling them all into slavery off the coast and running away to the Nagashingu islands.

The undercover assassin started small, and on a whim at that. Daichi, one of the lowest ranking captains, had been plucking chickens all morning, and when he breezed past Nui in the barracks, he crowed loudly about looking forward to a bath in the cold river.

“Can’t stand plucking!” he complained as he grabbed dry clothes to take with him. “Ma-ma used to make me do it all the time as a kid!”

“She probably didn’t like it either,” Nui replied. “But a jump in the stream sounds pretty good. Mind if I come, too?”

Daichi shook his head. “They’re doing the wash over in the stream, let’s go down to the river.” As he left the barracks, he hollered for Nui to catch up, teasingly calling him a feeble old man.

Nui grinned, replying, “I bet I can beat you there, young’un!” Then he watched as Daichi sprinted off, which was just fine by Nui. He gathered some clothes, his blowgun and a single dart, and a single leaf of huyan weed- the gel inside was more potent than a dozen venomous spiders when applied to the bloodstream. If he could hit him with a dart coated in the stuff, Daichi’s death would at least be quick and mostly painless.

He ran to catch up to him, finding him a few minutes later, about two miles away from Minatu’s homestead. He was already naked and stepping carefully into the cold running water.

“Told ya you were an old man!” he laughed before taking a deep breath and diving in.

Nui shook his head. “I don’t feel old, but you’re right I guess.” He looked up and down the riverbank. The coast was clear, and Daichi seemed to be more interested in enjoying his swim than paying attention to Nui. “Man, running flat out like that always makes me feel like taking a shit…”

“Well go on, then!” Daichi laughed. “I ain’t gonna watch you pinch one off!”

Nui nodded, saying he’d join him momentarily. Instead, he crept behind a bush, pulled out the blowgun and put it in his mouth. He pulled the dart and the leaf carefully from inside his vest and inserted the dart through the swollen foliage, watching its clear toxins well up from the green flesh. He inserted it into the narrow pipe, took a deep breath, reigned in his _ki,_ and aimed for the man bobbing happily in the swift current.

He pushed through the bush until the barrel protruded about three inches, then blew with all his might. The dart zipped through the air, sticking Daichi perfectly under his chin. Nui rose from his hiding place, just in time to see Daichi’s eyes widen in realization before they rolled backwards in his skull. His body went completely limp and the current pulled him down river effortlessly, as if the man were a log. Nui tucked the blowgun inside his trousers, under the strapping holding his kunai case to his thigh. He tossed the poisonous leaf into the river, and then he dunked himself into the waters before running back to the barracks.

He shouted for help when he neared the pasture, not sure if anyone would hear him, but needing to be sure that someone heard the desperation in his voice.

“It’s Daichi!” he yelled as he bounded into the camp. The others had begun to take note of him and it wasn’t long before one of the captains came running.

“What happened to Daichi?” Chou-Sueng, commander over the stationary ballistics unit, asked worriedly.

Nui paused to gasp for breath. “We’d gone down to the river! To take a bath!” He bent over and rested his palms on his knees, panting. “I had to relieve my bowels before I got in… He was telling a joke and just stopped- I looked over at him and he had a dart in his neck!”

Everyone began to chatter quietly. “A dart in his neck?” Chou-Sueng repeated.

“I tried to grab his body, but by the time I got my pants up and in the water, the current had already taken him too far too quickly. I couldn’t catch up!” He fell to his knees, forcing his _ki_ to leap wildly with emotion by remembering what that Tao bastard had done to his beautiful Niao and their unborn baby… “I didn’t see where it came from, or who had done it! I reached out to see if I could sense their presence but there wasn’t anything there! And I’ve been trained to uncover hidden _ki_!”

By now, word had spread throughout Minatu, and Fei and Hong hurried over to where Chou-Sueng and Nui were.

“How long ago did it happen?” Fei asked, looking toward the river, scanning the horizon.

“I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes now. I tried to get his body so we could examine the dart, but he was gone too quickly.”

Hong nodded. “Send riders along the bank until you find him. If you don’t see him an hour before sunset, come back.”

The three captains agreed, and Fei stuck his hand out to help Nui to his feet. “You’re lucky they didn’t get you, too.”

“I always go behind a bush to take a shit. Maybe this time it saved my life.”

“But who would do it?” Chou-Sueng asked, scratching at his beard. “We’re in friendly territory, and the closest neighboring clan is no less than twenty miles from here.”

Fei closed his eyes. “Regardless of distance or borders, our Emperor has many enemies in the south and a large bounty on his head. Anyone could be stupid enough to come this far north and assume they’d be able to carry out the deed. Money makes people crazy, y’know.”

Nui chimed in, “But why kill just one of us? And why not kill Hong-sama, if that was their original target?”

“Like I said,” Fei answered, leading them toward the stables, “money makes people crazy. Hard to say how a true assassin works.” He turned to Nui. “Stay here. Get drunk. Thank the gods for your life. We’ll go get Daichi.”

They left him standing there in soaked clothing, staring after them as if he’d been slapped in the face- just as he assumed Fei would expect him to look. Mentally, he carved the first notch onto the blowgun, one person closer to taking down Hong. He watched the riders saddle up and take off at full speed for the river, the dust they stirred up sticking to his hands, face, and dripping clothes. He thought to himself he should have been an actor as he trudged back to the barracks forlornly. No one bothered him as he drank in solitude, and no one noticed him tug the blowgun from his pants and slip it back into his gear.

So far, no one was any wiser, and that’s what he gave thanks to the gods for that night.

* * *

Jean Havoc poured another round of whiskey shots for himself and his Amestrian friends- Dr. Owen Knox, his son Dr. Henry Knox (that everyone had taken to calling ‘Junior’), Dr. Tim Marcoh, and the chimaeras turned Peony Palace guards, Fred Zampano and Mike Jerso. It was the celebration feast of the Empress’ longer and healthier pregnancy, and they’d all been seated together at the feast, off of the palace steps, of course, but near the nobles section. The food had come and gone over two hours of glorious eating, and now that dessert had been cleared from the tables, the guests began to enjoy some drinks and conversation as various acts performed below.

“Man,” the blond marksman said as he lit a fresh cigarette, “I haven’t had a night off since I got here. This is really nice.”

Jerso knocked his shot back with ease, chasing it with some of the Peony Plums wine bottled at the palace. “The guys all talk about it in the barracks, how thorough an education they’re getting with the rifles and submachine guns.”

Jean swallowed his drink in a loud gulp, then said, “Some of them have a good instinct for it, at least the crossbow archers do. Feels like I’m caught in a goddamned time warp, teaching knights from the dark ages how to fire a gun… Good thing I have you guys there to help!” he said, nodding toward Jerso and Zampano. He gestured toward the medical staff. “I imagine you guys feel pretty much the same way, right? People who think boiling a couple of herbs will magically cure meningitis?”

“Well,” Dr. Knox conceded, “there are pros to homeopathic methods, and certainly we can both learn things from each other medicinally, but for the most part you’re absolutely correct. The pharmaceutical industry is big business here, between cultivating and gathering the herbs and plants, and that’s not even counting processing them into useable medicine. But when you think about where our modern medication comes from, it’s just watered down versions of the original extracts of plants.”

“And with medical alkahestry, there’s very little need for x-rays and blood work. The way they sense energy tells them exactly where bones are snapped, what’s in the body that shouldn’t be, can even determine the moment of fertilization as well as the baby’s sex.” Marcoh looked out at the crowd gathered for the celebration. “The Empress herself has told me and Mei Chang that she could tell when her first baby wasn’t right, that she felt his energy- his _ki-_ dwindling… Had we been here, we could have been able to save the baby and it would have carried to term. But tell the midwife that and she thinks we’re insane.”

Zampano shook his head. “Back home, I don’t know that the Führer losing a child would be such a big deal, but it’s like everyone here lost a baby of their own. Bleak- that’s the word that comes to mind.”

Jean nodded. “The men still talk about it sometimes. I see them making offerings in the temple on the little one’s behalf, the one she’s got in her now. They really like the Emperor, really wanna see him keep his throne. Those boys would die for that kid, I wonder if he knows that.”

Jerso nodded. “He knows. He’d die for them, and I think they know that, too.”

Jean grinned, shaking his head. “Sounds like Mustang.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Alphonse said as he joined them. He’d come out of his armor, wearing a brilliant colored silk robe and a soft leather vest.

They all rose, bowing to him, to which Al brushed their formal airs away. Jean couldn’t believe how much he’d grown (nearly as tall as himself!), how mature he’d become… There was no doubt he carried an air of authority about him now, but when it was just them, he and his Amestrian comrades, he was just one of the guys. Jean grinned at him as he sat down at their low table.

“So what brings you over here? I figured you’d be right in the middle of the royal festivities.”

Al chuckled. “I’m not royalty, despite my station. Besides, my wife kept telling me I looked like a puppy begging for scraps every time I glanced over this direction. So,” he said as he reached into a pocket on the vest, “I thought I’d introduce you to a special Xingese treat.”

Jean watched him pull out what looked like a tobacco pouch. It was ornately stamped leather, a scene of rolling fields with horses. “What’s that?”

“My pipe. Well, one of them. Ever smoked cannabis before, Havoc?”

Jean’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding? That’s what’s in there?” He peeked over at the pouch a little closer. “I thought shit was dangerous!”

Zampano laughed. “Yeah, we all did, but they smoke it like you smoke your cigarettes. And it really does wonders for nausea, found that out when I got the stomach flu back in the winter.”

Junior Knox leaned forward as well. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

Al laughed. “I’ve been smoking it regularly since before you guys got here, I think it’s safe!”

Jean offered him a shot of whiskey, saying, “So why’ve you been holdin’ out on us all this time? We’ve been here for months and you’re just now sharing?”

Al shrugged. “We really haven’t had time to just relax all together like this.” He packed the pipe- a simple thing made of a single carved piece of alabaster. “I left my nice pipe in my quarters, it’s too long to really enjoy, but it’s really cool looking- something my brother would kill for, I imagine. It’s a brass dragon with ruby eyes. The bowl is its open mouth and you smoke it through the tail.” He picked what looked like a seed out of the mixture, then tapped the loose shreds down tighter. He pulled out a match and struck it, lighting the cannabis and puffing gently until his cheeks hollowed with smoke. He passed the pipe to Havoc as he inhaled what was in his mouth.

They all stared at him as he closed his eyes and held the vapors inside him, then he exhaled with nary a wheeze. He looked at Jean. “It’ll go out if you don’t puff and pass.”

Jean looked at the little pipe, then shook his head, smirking. “My poor mama would lynch me if she were here right now…” He put it to his lips and took a drag- then coughed like holy hell. “Harsh!” he coughed out. His eyes watered and he gagged, but he passed it on as he struggled for air. He watched Owen take a drag and hold it a moment as he passed it on to his son. He only held it a few seconds before he was coughing as well.

“I smoke unfiltered cigarettes and I can barely stand that!” They listened as Junior began coughing and gagging as well. “How Alphonse can stand that stuff, with his tender new lungs, is beyond me.”

“My god,” Junior croaked. “My throat’s on fire!”

Zampano took a small puff, Jerso and Dr. Marcoh refused, passing it back to Al, who finished it off in one hard suck. This time when he exhaled, he blew a series of smoke rings into the air. “You have to start small. It’s like drinking, you have to work up to bigger quantities of it at once.”

Then Owen spoke up- the only one of them besides Al to really take any into their lungs and hold it in. “Hey… This actually feels really nice once it hits.”

Al nodded, taking his shot of whiskey and grimacing as it slid down his throat. “It’s really the best. And you won’t get a hangover like with booze. Plus, it’s actually _good_ for you.” He grinned. “Mei says it makes me look sexy when I smoke, so there’s that, too.”

Jean groaned into his hands. “Man, you’re so freakin’ smooth now! A cute little wife, a great position in a really cool country, the best amenities I’ve ever seen… I can’t even get a girlfriend back home!”

Jerso elbowed Zampano in the ribs and said, “Maybe you can get a girlfriend here like Fred did! He’ll probably never go back to Amestris now!”

Below, a swell of music grabbed their attention and they looked down on a troupe of performers coming forward to entertain the Empress. Jean forgot about watching Al cut down a small nub of the plant into smokeable shreds in favor of watching six young women vault through the air with long golden sashes trailing behind them. The music pounded rhythmically through the air, like a battle cry, as the performers twisted across the pavilion, twirling glaives and hoops in their hands.

“Wow,” Jean said quietly. “Everyone must know how to do martial arts over here…”

“That’s a family from the south, the Bangtzu clan. They learned the glaive spinning from pirates off the coast of Varumaja and turned it into an art form. Just wait until you see what they do with the large hoops!” He struck another match and lit his pipe again. He spoke as he choked the smoke back into his lungs, “Watched them practice yesterday for a bit.” He exhaled and passed the pipe to Jean again. “Smaller puffs, let the smoke work its magic.”

Jean did as he was told, making shorter drags from the pipe, holding them in for less time… and then he felt the calm creeping into his body. A final taste of the acrid smoke and he passed it along to Owen, who followed Al’s instructions as well. This time when Jean looked back out at the group dancing and spinning the metal curved blades, it was as if it were in slow motion.

He saw the details of the women’s faces, the gleam of their weaponry-turned-props, the patterns on their clothing seemed sharper and clearer, their moves elegant and refined. There was a woman on the end, closest to their section of the guest seating. Her skin was a rich brown and her eyes were not the almond shape of nearly every Xingese person he’d met. They were round, but dark as black coffee. Her cheekbones were high, her nose delicate and her lips supple and full. She moved with precision and grace, making the polished steel in her hands seem as harmless as brass finger bells he’d seen other dancers use before. Her hair was braided into a long ponytail, one that touched the backs of her thighs as she moved. She had a golden nose ring, encrusted with jewels and attached to an ornate gold chain that reached back to a pierced ear. A tiny, bright blue spot in the middle of her forehead only made him more curious, and he wondered what her name might be.

“Hey, Havoc? Haaaa-voc?” Zampano called out to him. It sounded as if he were far away, despite him being only a few feet across the table. “He’s been bewitched!”

“Huh?” Jean said dazedly, looking back over at his friend.

“I asked if it was doing anything for you yet! But apparently one of the girls down there must’ve caught your eye really bad to be that oblivious to me.”

“That one, with the chain on her face…” He pointed lamely, catching her eyes at last as she spun around. “She’s beautiful.”

Al laughed, an easy sound that was soothing in its own right among the noise and action surrounding them. “I can find out her name if you like! They’re all staying here until tomorrow morning. She’s not Xingese either, she’s a ward of the Bangtzu family, daughter of one of the Varumajan trainers who taught them how to dance this way. That blue dot means she’s not married or spoken for, the chain from her nose means she’s considered independent. That’s to say she doesn’t need her family’s permission to marry or own land. And that long, long hair? That’s a symbol of her purity. The Varumajan people don’t cut their hair until they reach adulthood, which according to their law is the loss of virginity. Men are not allowed to shave or cut their beards until they lay with another, and women are not allowed to cut their hair. Typically, it’s their partner who cuts it the first time, symbolizing the trust between the two.” Al smirked at him. “So, you interested?”

Jean’s clouded mind took in everything Al said, all while watching her sashes flutter and her glaives glint in the firelight. He slowly nodded as the troupe ended their current scene. The audience applauded and cheered for them, Jean even going so far as to give them a standing ovation. The girl locked eyes with him. He wanted to fly down to her, sprout wings and swoop in and grab her, then take her to some place away from all these people and get to know her, preferably through wet kisses and as little clothing as possible.

“Yes, I’m interested,” he said as he sat back down.

Jerso roared with laughter. “Damn! When Fred fell for Mingxia, he wasn’t even that pathetic!”

“Maybe I can find a wife here, too,” Junior said with a grin, stoned to the gills now that he’d figured out how to smoke the pipe without choking.

Al smiled. “The Xingese and all of our eastern neighbors are treasures. If any of you can find the same happiness with one of them as I have, I would wager you’d be happy for the rest of your life.”

Jean nodded dumbly. “I think you might be right,” he said, pouring himself another shot. “You just might be right.”

* * *

Lan Fan’s weight in his lap and the sound of her gasps and delighted cheering was all he needed, he’d decided. To be able to hold her in his arms and know she and the son she carried were happy and safe made him happier than he could ever imagine. As they watched the show below, his hand rubbed over her silken covered stomach. He could feel the babe’s _ki_ reacting to the noises surrounding them- just another sign of his healthy development.

“Thank you,” he whispered aloud to the gods.

Lan Fan seemed to sense the comment wasn’t directed toward her, and simply squeezed his knee. He looked down at the performers when the music stopped, watching as they bowed low. He whistled as Lan Fan applauded them, and then they were clearing the pavilion floor to make way for the final act.

“I especially requested this one,” Ling murmured near his wife’s ear. “I remember you telling me about this once just before we left for Amestris.”

She turned to face him, smiling brilliantly. “Qin-ai-de, truly, you didn’t have to go through so much trouble. This is more than enough already!”

He kissed her, then replied, “Trust me, I’ve saved the best for last.” Music began again and they both looked toward the pavilion as a lone performer gracefully rolled a metal hoop to the center of the stone pavers. She wore an amazing costume of vibrant feathers and ribbons, sparkling colored glass gemstones and golden embroidery. She looked like a phoenix, and the hoop- a wide tube of metal- had been painted to look like a dragon flying through the sky. The performer began slowly, letting the music swell and envelop her before acting upon the strains floating on the cool night air.

The hoop was not just a prop as the glaives and fans had been. The phoenix dancer used the hoop as a partner, twirling and spinning in ways that would have looked unrealistic had she done them alone. The woman’s moves were smooth, graceful, sensual… The symbolism in her act wasn’t missed. Ling knew she was trying to tell their story in her routine. It made him watch even more carefully, picking up every nuance the dancer was trying to convey. He rested his head on Lan Fan’s shoulder as she watched in awe.

The young woman spun and rolled with the dragon hoop, swung from its twirling weight and slung it across the floor in such a way that it would roll back to her hand like an obedient dog. It was as if she were flying, swooping in the firelight and taking her audience with her. At the end of it all, the painted dragon’s face rested before her lips and she kissed the hoop. Ling listened as the crowd went wild. When she bowed low, she must’ve reached into her clothing. A single fua flew toward the stars, a bird with plumage that resembled a bright green dragon. It called out with a raspy cry, one said to be the sound of an infant dragon from days gone by. The dancer had included the royal prince in her story. Ling was deeply touched.

He carefully moved Lan Fan off his lap and stood up, calling out to her. “Please! Come forward, young lady!” he called out from where the royal family was watching the show. He nodded to his guards to bring her up. She blushed as she was escorted up to them, and once she reached their table, she kneeled down and bowed her head.

“What is your name?” Lan Fan asked, smiling at her.

“L-Li Pele, your Highness,” the girl answered.

“Your act was extraordinary!” Ling cried. “I’d heard stories of hoop performances but have never seen one in person- I’m glad it was your performance we saw first!”

“How long have you been doing it? Did it take long to learn this kind of dancing?” Lan Fan asked.

Li-san seemed to blush even redder. “I was taught when I was little, your Highnesses. I learned to roll inside a hoop before I even learned to swim. And I practiced for no less than two hours every day.” She raised her head and caught Ling’s gaze before looking back at the ground. “I sincerely hope you win the war, My Lord. My family has risen from poverty with your help, and my little sister got the medicine she needed when she was sick with the stomach flu that swept through the western villages.”

“Ah,” Ling nodded. “We were also victims of that sickness. And I’m very glad that the changes myself and my Dragon have been working to implement have been so beneficial to you personally.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a large gold coin, worth a small fortune- seven thousand Paisa. “Your performance was thoughtful, beautiful, and spectacularly entertaining. Take this as a token of our appreciation, in addition to what you’ve already been paid. You’ve brought our family great joy tonight with your act, we wish you and your family all the best as well, Li-san.”

The girl bowed so low that her forehead touched the ground, sniffling as tears of joy ran from her painted eyes. When she rose, her voice cracked on her when she thanked him for his kindness and generosity.

“Keep dancing. Happiness will return to Xing eventually, and our people may need to be reminded how to dance themselves.” Ling nodded to his guards. “Be sure she is escorted home to keep her safe. Have the treasury break that coin into smaller denominations for her.”

Lan Fan turned to him smiling as they left. “You truly do love every single Xingese person, don’t you.”

He nodded as he pulled her to her feet. “Nearly as much as I love you, Lan-chan.” He kissed her and the crowd surrounding them cheered in approval. Ling motioned for a microphone and one was quickly thrust into his hands. He addressed his people as the speakers crackled to life across the pavilion.

“The royal heir thrives in the Empress’ belly, and Ong-Xu has blessed us with a healthier pregnancy this time around. All of your prayers and thoughts have been so appreciated and cherished- thank you so much for thinking of us as we await the prince’s birth. We will now retire to our chambers- please stay and enjoy the music and revelry! May Ong-Xu continue to bless us all!” He handed the microphone off and offered Lan Fan his arm, leaving the celebration for the quiet of the imperial suite.

Lan Fan’s hand rested on her stomach as they strode into the palace. “This baby’s going to make it,” she said, smiling. “I can feel it in my bones.”

Ling stopped them in the wide hallway, first cupping Lan Fan’s cheeks to kiss her, then dropping his fingers to cradle her round belly. “I can feel how healthy he is, too. His _ki_ is so much stronger than our first son… You’re so lucky to be able to carry him and know everything about him before he’s even born. I’d give anything to trade places with you for even a moment.”

His wife laughed loudly, to the point she snorted. “The first day of morning sickness and you may change your mind, qin-ai-de! And then the swelling and the strange cravings!” She smiled at him. “It’s sweet of you to say so, anyway. And it is a very special time for us.”

Ling took her hand and kissed it, then looped her arm back into his. As he led them back to their rooms, he commented, “You know we’re not going to get very much sleep tonight, right?”

She laughed again, hiding her face with her sleeve. “It _is_ a celebration, after all!”

As they entered their quarters, Ling grinned at her. “I’m glad you see things my way, My Lady!” While the celebration continued below, the Emperor and Empress threw a private celebration for themselves, until just before the sun rose.


	4. CHAPTER TWO

It was 4 a.m. and Riza woke to the sound of a shrill alarm clock. Switching it off, she rolled and peeked out the window. There wasn’t a soul on the street below, and the windows of the building across the way were all dark, even the ones of the kind woman who brought her teacakes on occasion that suffered from insomnia. She flopped back into bed, stretching and yawning, the rolled to her other side.

“Roy,” she called softly near his ear. “Time to go.”

He woke begrudgingly, lazily throwing an arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest. “Don’t wanna,” he mumbled.

She sighed as she combed his hair out of his face with her fingers. “I know.” She kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “One day it won’t be like this, but for now…” She wormed away from him and rose out of the covers, clad in only a camisole and panties. The moonlight gave her just enough light to see by, and she gathered his clothes up from the bedroom floor, shooing Hayate off of his waist wrap. She shook the dog hair off of it and laid it over the bed.

“I’ll go start some coffee,” Riza said as she rubbed at her eyes, pausing to tear a page off the daily calendar on her dresser- June 23rd.

She could hear him complaining as she set the percolator to brew and she grinned. She quickly washed the few dishes they’d used to eat from the night before, then watched Roy stumble into the kitchen, mostly dressed and walking around in sock feet.

“I hate getting up this early, but I love seeing you dressed like that,” he said, smirking as he sat down to work his boots on.

“You’ve seen me in less, silly,” Riza replied as she fixed him a mug of fresh coffee, just the way he liked it.

He nodded, jerking the laces tight on his right foot. “Yes, but there’s something more alluring about the way that thin shirt clings to your ribs. I guess because then the only thing bare are those gorgeous, goddess-like legs.”

Riza chuckled, sitting a steaming mug down in front of him. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me, sir.”

“I know, but it was worth a shot,” he said as he took a sip of his coffee.

Riza leaned against the counter. “The shipment from Drachma should be coming today,” she reminded him. In addition to the weaponry his aunt had procured for the Xingese forces, somehow she’d also managed to get some bulletproof vests and helmets. “How are we going to get it to Xing?”

Roy finished tying his boots, then rose and walked to where she stood. He wrapped his arms around her waist, saying, “I have a plan, as always, Colonel.”

“And what plan is this, General?” she asked locking her hands at the back of his neck.

“I’m sending Braeda, Ross and Fuery on extended leave. From here, they’ll be leaving on different days at different times, different directions of course, all to meet up in six days at the Ishvalan outpost. Miles is going to load up five desert transports and once they make it to Yangsho, the Imperial army will be waiting with empty wagons to accept the delivery of the goods and our men, along with some special reinforcements from the Ishvalan Monastery.” He kissed her, then pulled back. “When Princess Chang was here, it turns out she made very good friends with a certain scarred criminal.”

“You really think all this effort will pay off in the end?” she asked, rubbing his arm as he turned her loose.

“Havoc and the medical team have all said the Xingese seem to take information in like a sponge. They learn quickly and are eager to practice their skills as a sign of gratitude and respect for the knowledge they’ve gained. Mr. Han says they’re dying to see vehicular transport. They still don’t have anything but horses. And you know Al says most places don’t have sewers or running water. If we can help them upgrade to modern amenities and educate them in the best of science and technology, Amestris would have an ally on par with Drachma, and twice as big. It’s the best investment we can make for our country, and the fact that Ishval wants to help is even more amazing.”

Riza nodded, watching him open her freezer and drop an ice cube into his mug to cool his coffee down, then swallow it down quickly. He put the mug in the sink and kissed her lips once more. “I hate leaving you,” he said as he cupped her cheek. “Maybe I can stay Friday night until Sunday morning if I can get Vanessa to help me pull it off.”

Riza smiled. “I’ll see you again in a few hours. Try not to find any trouble between now and then,” she said as she accepted another kiss from him.

“Go back to bed, I’ll see you later- you want me to bring some donuts or something?” Roy asked as they walked to the door.

“Get some croissants from that bakery on 5th. They’ll give you butter and jam if you ask for it.” She reminded him again to shave when he got back to his townhouse, then she was closing and locking the door behind him.

It was awful, hiding like this. But they’d been doing it so long now that it would probably feel very strange to be out in the open with their relationship. Still, Riza looked forward to the day Roy could stay until daybreak, or maybe even afternoon, and not have to fear being reprimanded in some way that could keep Roy from reaching the Führer’s seat. Maybe one day they really _could_ get married… have a couple kids…

But there wasn’t anything Riza could do about the situation at the present. She resigned herself for going back to bed, setting the alarm for 7 a.m. this time, and taking comfort that Roy’s side of the bed was still warm and his pillow still smelled like him. Hayate bumped her hand a few times for some attention, then lay down by the bed. After that, she gave into sleep easily, dreaming of a day when she didn’t have to keep who her lover was a secret.

* * *

The royal dining hall was set for breakfast, many of the foods meant to ward off lingering hangovers and upset stomachs caused from the uproarious feast from the night before. Ling sipped at a cup of pickle juice while Al and Mei chose the ginger tea. Lan Fan seemed to be laughing at the three of them as discreetly as possible while she enjoyed a platter of fried dumplings and congee.

Usually, when the large windows were open on the palace balconies, one could hear the commotion of daily life in the streets below. However, today was unusually quiet, though no one was really surprised. It had been one hell of a party. If anyone out there was walking upright and not grimacing it would be a miracle.

Mingxia arrived right on time, just after the main dishes had been served. She came every morning to relate the latest gossip from the families in the residential side of Shang-Po to the Emperor every day. He perked up at seeing her.

“Ah, my Duchess of Domestic Affairs!” he called her jokingly. “It’s quiet out there, are the people of Shang-Po okay?”

His dragon moaned, “Please, not so loud, Your Highness. My head may very well split open today just from the sound of my clothes rustling, let alone your voice.”

Ling tittered in response. Mingxia bowed as she settled herself at an appropriate distance down the table with only the slightest indication of a smirk on her lips. “Of course they are, My Lord. They are starting slower than usual today, but they’ll perk up soon.”

The Emperor smiled. “It was wonderful to celebrate with them. I only hope they enjoyed the performances and food as much as Lan Fan and I did.”

The Empress patted her stomach. “Our son moved a lot during the glaive and bladed fan performances. I have a feeling he’s going to excel in martial arts.”

Ling reached over and rested his palm near his wife’s, hoping to feel his son’s movements as well. “No matter what he chooses to excel in, he will be perfect.” He glanced back to Mingxia. “So what’s new among the partied-out citizens of the capitol?”

His Duchess related the story of the Shang-Po’s most successful potter, how he was the only one of her ‘little birds’ she encountered that wasn’t hung over. It seemed the old man was ready to begin the day as he would any other work day, and was hard at work at his wheel while the rest of the city seemed to sleep in. The magistrate in the lower district had logged four new marriages of couples joined the old fashioned way- by the husband carrying his bride into his house and laying her in his bed.

“My Lord, do you remember the Yong family with the nine children?”

Ling frowned, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Don’t tell me she’s expecting another- she just gave birth not that long ago, right?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“I wonder if Madam Yong even knows all her children’s names,” he mused as he took a bite of kiwi fruit.   “Did the noise finally get so bad that someone filed an official complaint?”

Mingxia smiled. “Actually, the opposite, My Lord. A runaway girl was escorted to their home and told that if she could rein in the children that she might be allowed to come serve Your Celestial Highness in the palace kitchens. From what I understand, she’s gotten all of them cleaned up and dressed and even started teaching the older ones how to properly clean while she cooks and looks after the younger ones. My birds are quite impressed with her.”

Ling was surprised at the news. Yong Una had often been a morning discussion with Mingxia, from how her children terrorized dogs in the street, to how they made all kinds of racket into the night, to her own lasciviousness and perpetual state of pregnancy. “And this girl was just a random runaway? Sounds like she might have been a godsend from beyond!”

“I know!” she cried excitedly. Then she cleared her throat and apologized for her disrespectful outburst.

Ling waved her apology away. “It’s good to be so happy for people who’ve had so much misfortune.” He sipped some water and asked, “Do your birds know where she ran away from?”

His informant leaned in closer. “They say she was one of the three concubines from Xian-Fu- one of the girls you would have had to choose from the Foshu clan. Her name is Rin.”

“One of the concubines?” Lan Fan asked. “Why in the world would she want to come here? And why in the world would she _stay_ if it meant taking care of the Yong children?”

Mingxia addressed the Empress. “She told the guards at the gate that her life was in danger if she returned to Xian-Fu, My Lady. When one is facing death, one will do whatever it takes to survive, as you know.”

Ling’s eyes flicked to the gleaming metal hand that rested in his wife’s lap. Yes, Lan Fan knew that lesson _very well_.

“There must be some purpose the concubines could serve apart from merely providing an heir for the Emperor,” Alphonse said. “Is there any kind of training involved in becoming one of the representatives?”

Mingxia educated his Dragon on the finer points of raising a girl child in the villages, how they are cared for like precious jewels and raised like princesses from before they can even toddle about on shaky legs. “Their schooling in music and poetry is on par with the royal children, and many are also excellent horsemen and archers. Everything the Emperor might have an interest in, they are taught to be beyond proficient. The clans narrow their choices down over a period of months, and the Foshu girl was one of the final choices. Each clan sends their three best girls to be presented to the Emperor and he chooses which among them pleases him most. The rest are either distributed to other nobles or sent home. Often the ones sent home commit suicide or run away, but not once has one ever run to Shang-Po before.”

Al’s eyes caught Ling’s. “This is an untapped resource we should be using.”

“How?” Ling asked, genuinely intrigued.

“You’ve got one hundred and fifty intelligent, cultured, and strong young women that aren’t being utilized. That’s enough people to act as teachers and political representatives for every clan.” Al’s face brightened. “We could get rid of that council of village headmen and start fresh, with fresh minds!”

“You’ve got one hell of a point there,” Ling agreed. “I need unclouded heads for my ideas, and that’s certainly a way to give the concubines a purpose without degrading their worth.” He turned to Mingxia. “I’d like to speak with this Foshu Rin. Have your little birds bring her to me.”

She bowed her head. “Of course, My Lord.”

“Perhaps all the concubines should rounded up and escorted here. The ones north of the river…” He scratched his chin in thought, combing his fingers through the beard growing there. “We may need to send some notices to see if they’ll come willingly.”

“Perhaps Mai-san has some insight on this?” Mei offered. “He was Dragon for a very long time, I’m sure he has some strategic methods left in him.”

“Then it’s settled,” he said getting to his feet. “Al, set up a meeting between me, yourself, and Mai- after lunch would be good. I’m going down to speak to Havoc-san and see if the arrangements for our new armor have been made and find out what our next step is going to be. Lan Fan?” he asked as he gave her a loving smile. “Do you feel up to coming with me? Or would you rather rest?”

His wife smiled at him. “I’m feeling very well today, I’d love to accompany my husband about his business.”

He reached down and helped her to stand, then linked arms with her. “Mei, I assume you’re continuing your research with Hoi-sama?”

“Yes, My Lord. Dr. Marcoh has joined us in our studies now, as well. We’re still gathering evidence from Jerso and Zampano, as well as the subjects Hoi-sama transmuted for Hong. Once we’ve finished that, we’ll be able to start analyzing it and finding the links to undoing what has been done.”

“Excellent.” He turned toward them, smiling. “You’re all very valuable and very important to the future of Xing. I wish you health and happiness so that you’re able to help me guide this country for a very long time.” They all bowed to him, thanking him for his blessings and wishing him the same, then he and Lan Fan departed for the armory.

* * *

When Braeda arrived in Ishval, his first thought was how big of a mistake it was to return to the godforsaken heat. Luckily, when Col. Miles and the man he knew as Scar met him at the bus depot, they brought him a set of Ishvalan clothes. Apparently, the Ishvalans knew better than the army about what kind of fabric to wear in extreme heat, because Braeda asked where he could get 2 more sets of tunics and pants. Even Col. Miles, who was as by-the-book as Riza Hawkeye, wore an Ishvalan tunic with his desert fatigue pants.

After he settled into his temporary lodgings to wait for Fuery and Ross, Miles knocked at his door.

“Colonel, what can I do for you?” he said as he saluted the white headed man.

He returned the salute, then grinned. “Are you much of a driver back East?”

Braeda’s brows knitted in confusion. “Sir?”

“Do you like to drive? A car?”

“Oh! Well, I guess. I have a car at home, sir. Not that I’ve ever really had a chance to go drag racing down the strip or anything like the teenagers do.”

Miles nodded. “I’ve got five adapted desert transport trucks sitting in the sand. I wondered if you might want to take one of them for a spin, see how you like it.”

“Really?” Braeda perked up despite the crick in his neck from sleeping on the bus.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need drivers to get this stuff across the desert. If you like it, you can have a truck of your own.” He reached into his pocket and jingled the keys. “You can do donuts in the dunes out there- more fun than the army allows!”

That was all the reason Braeda needed to give it a shot. He reached out for the keys, saying, “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

They made the walk from the inn to the mud brick garage that stood on the very edge of Ishval. When Miles opened the bay door, Braeda whistled. The thing was as tall as two copies of his own car, stacked one on top of the other. The fuel tanks were right underneath the doors and had _rungs_ built into them so the driver and passengers could get into the cab. The tires themselves were wider than a grown man and their circumference was nearly his wingspan.

“I’ve never driven anything this huge before, sir!” Braeda gaped at how gigantic the vehicle was. “Are you sure I’ll even be able to drive it?”

Miles patted him on the shoulder. “It’s just like driving a car back home, there’s just a lot more power under the hood, and everything’s a whole lot bigger. Go on, I’ll get in on the other side.”

He climbed up, standing on a small welded on ledge so he could open the door. The seat across the front could hold five men easily. He peeked through the window at the rear to see into the cargo hold. There was enough room to have a homecoming dance in there, and it was loaded to the gills with crates of top of the line armor- direct from a mystery contact deep behind the Drachman border.

“Holy crap,” he breathed.

Miles looked into the back as well. “I don’t know who’s supplying all this, but I sincerely hope they’re getting their money’s worth.”

“Yeah… It’s a shame we can’t get some for ourselves.”

Miles turned back to the front, pointing at various knobs and switches. “It’s all fairly straightforward. Ignition’s there, gear shift is on the steering column- it’s an automatic, so you don’t have to do anything with a clutch and gears. Just drop it into drive and go. The biggest thing that’s different though, are these tires are filled with water. You get better traction in the sand with them that way, and the water helps keep the rubber a little cooler. Means a blow out in the desert is less likely, but it does feel a little different when driving.”

Braeda stuck the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine rumbled to life and Braeda adjusted the side mirror. “Just put it in gear and go, huh?”

Miles grinned, looking out ahead of them. “Yep.”

Grasping the shifter, Braeda put the truck in drive and the sound of the engine deepened and vibrated differently through the seat beneath him. “Then let’s go!”

He eased up off the brake and right away he could feel how weird those tires felt. It was like rolling in mud or something. Miles explained that feel would go away once he built up some speed, so he rolled right out into the sands to really test drive the transport.

It was amazing how that enormous and incredibly heavy truck seemed to float on the desert terrain. It sped along gracefully and he could see how travelling to Xing this way was going to make one hell of a difference. Ross had told him what it was like crossing the desert on horseback- he was grateful he wasn’t doing it that way.

“Go out a little ways and I’ll show you the procedure should a sandstorm come up,” Miles said.

Braeda zoomed out into the wasteland, then stopped when he could still see civilization, though it was not all that close by. The truck seemed to lurch and he looked at Miles questioningly.

“It does that. It’s the water’s inertia coming to a stop- no need for concern.”

They stopped and got out, Miles carrying a large tarp that he’d pulled from underneath the seat. “You’re only going to have a few precious minutes, so time is of the essence.” He pointed to five eye bolts running down either side of the truck. “Sandstorms always come from the north out here. When you see one coming, you’ll only have about 5 minutes, maybe less, to protect the vehicle.   Five men each take a grommet and hook to the opposite side. For example, if the storm comes on the driver’s side, hook the tarp onto the passenger side, then unroll it so it covers the driver’s side.”

Braeda could understand already what he was getting at. “I see, we’re covering the hood and exhaust to prevent damage.”

“Precisely. Once it’s hooked and covered, you’re going to stretch it out taut as you can manage and weight the edge with the cement blocks under the bumper. It creates an aerodynamic shelter that will keep the vehicle upright and keep the parts mostly sand free. Also keeps windows from being broken.”

“Good plan. How long does it take to do this with the right amount of men?” Braeda asked, wiping sweat from his face.

“Three minutes if you hustle. Five if you don’t. Dawdling out in the desert is never a good idea, but it’s the worst idea when a sandstorm is bearing down.” He looked up at the sky. “The sun will be setting soon, we better get back.” Braeda agreed, and a few moments later, his stomach seconded the motion.

As they drove back, they both felt as the heat began to let up, signaling the freezing night was well on its way. Miles asked him, “So, what do you think? Think you and a crew could drive one of these to Xing?”

“Who’s gonna drive it back though? I thought you knew my crew was staying in Xing for a bit.”

Miles replied, “We’re letting the Xingese hold on to them for a while.”

Braeda blinked. “We’re just gonna give them five elite army vehicles?”

“These don’t belong to the army, Major,” Miles said with a grin. “These belong to Gen. Armstrong. They’re on loan to the Ishvalans, and _they_ are loaning four of them to the Xingese. No need to worry about them.”

Braeda chuckled. “For all the animosity between them, your boss and my boss sure are a lot alike.”

Miles grinned as they neared the garage. “I know, but it will kill her if you ever mention it to her, and then she’d have to kill _you_.”

“My lips are sealed!” Braeda backed the truck in slowly, nary a problem as he brought it to a stop and shut off the engine.

He handed the keys back to Miles once they were on the ground again. “You got yourself a driver.”

“I thought you might be up for the adventure. Your skills are much appreciated, Braeda. I’m glad Mustang’s sending you guys over there.” They watched the last of the sunlight drain away from the sky as they chit chatted, then Braeda’s stomach gurgled violently again.

He felt his face heat with embarrassment. “Sorry, I’ve only eaten once today and I’m starving.”

“There’s a reason we put you up at that particular inn,” Miles commented as he shut the garage up once more. “Best Ishvalan fare I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve been here now going on three years. Do you drink?”

Braeda snorted. “Does a bear shit in the woods, sir?”

Miles laughed at that. “Then the first round’s on me, Major! Let me introduce you to the finest desert wine!”

The two of them would eat four courses and finish a bottle of potent araq liquor before Braeda would stumble back to his room. But his dreams were sweet and cool, and he could hardly wait to make the journey to Xing.

* * *

Five children were lined up neatly, all standing quietly and patiently as Rin began to spoon rice into bowls. She handed the first two bowls to the oldest child, a girl named Li-Ya. Li-Ya thanked her for the food and went to where a toddler sat playing happily with some sticks. She gathered the boy into her lap and they ate together, giggling as the baby’s big sister devised a game to get the child to eat.

The next oldest child was also a girl. She was also given two bowls and she took the hand of the youngest child in line and they joined their siblings and ate neatly nearby. Rin doled out bowls of rice singly after that, until everyone had been given their breakfast portion of food, saving the larger bits for herself and Una-san. The old mother thanked her sincerely, nursing her youngest child, an infant no more than two months old, and spooning rice into the nine month old’s mouth every now and then.

“Rin-chan, I cannot find the words to express how grateful I am for your arrival,” Una said as she nibbled at her rice. “These children were out of control, filthy, rude, and loud… It’s like I’m living in a different home!”

The small house itself was sparkling clean, the children’s clothing washed and mended, their hair and bodies free from dirt and stink- though she’d been unsure at first about living with the Yong family, she’d made some real progress with the children and was happy that she was able to put her stinging switch away most days. Now that they were on the right track, she was able to guide them with her voice rather than a swat with the yimyim stripling.

“Rin-san! I gotta go pee!” the three year old boy said, Gan.

She wiped her hands on her apron and stood up. “Come, let’s hurry to the latrine! Don’t start until we get your pants down, alright?” They raced together to the small built in outhouse at the back of the house.

As she watched Gan dutifully use the hole in the floor, it occurred to her that she hadn’t thought about going to the palace kitchens in weeks. She wondered when her dreams had changed from living at the palace to raising seven children. She wondered why being here with the Yongs meant so much more to her than serving the handsome Emperor that she’d been mooning over back home…

“All done, Rin-san!” Gan said proudly, smiling up at her and breaking the spell of her scattered thoughts.

She kneeled down to help him with his underclothes. “Such a good job, Gan-chan! You’re such a big boy now! Ma-ma will be so proud of you!”

The boy hopped up and down excitedly- then unexpectedly threw his arms around her neck. Rin’s eyes went wide with surprise.

“Thank you for teaching me how, Rin-san! I love you!” he proclaimed as he hugged her tightly.

She couldn’t help but grin, and she squeezed him back. “You’re very welcome, Gan-chan. Let’s go back and finish up breakfast so we can start our day.”

As he scurried off, Rin realized something. She might not have been able to make a difference to her own family, but to this family, she was doing good work and being very helpful indeed. She returned to the sitting room and helped the older children get ready for school.

No sooner had they left, the guards who had led her to the Yong household arrived. They came with a finely penned notice in their hands… Rin didn’t have good experiences with the royal notices. She eyed the two men suspiciously, then asked the younger children to go play quietly in the sleeping room.

“Good morning, Una-san, Rin-chan!” the handsome eunuch said with a smile. “Still can’t believe this is the same house!”

“What does the notice say?” Rin asked warily, cutting to the chase.

Kidu, the shorter one with two wives and the one who suggested Rin serve the Yong household in the first place, frowned. “Why do you always assume it’s bad news?”

“Because it’s _always_ bad news,” she said quietly, holding her hand out for the scroll.

Botai handed it over, smiling at her. “Rin-chan, this is probably the best news you could ever get- you’re being summoned to the palace! The Emperor desires a meeting with you!”

Una’s jaw dropped as Rin’s eyes widened. “What?” she exclaimed.

“His Celestial Highness enjoys hearing about the daily lives of Shang-Po’s residents, and Una-san’s family is one of his favorite inquiries. When he found out what you were before coming to the capitol, he decided he wanted to hear your story from your own mouth,” Botai replied. “Open the notice, it will explain everything!”

Rin’s hands shook as she popped the wax seal bearing the royal seal. It was true- Emperor Ling wanted to talk with her about what happened, that her story could help shape a better future for the candidates from each village… “A better future?” she asked.

Kidu folded his arms across his chest. “We weren’t given any details, Rin-chan. Only told to deliver the notice to you.”

Suddenly, Rin was arrested by fear. “I don’t have anything proper to wear to the Imperial Court, when am I expected?”

“The Emperor realizes you left everything you had behind in your home village when you came here,” Botai explained. “He’s tasked us with escorting you to Shang-Po’s finest noble tailor to commission appropriate robes.”

“I don’t have that kind of money!” Rin cried.

“Our Lord is covering the cost of your clothing. All you have to do is come with us.”

Rin clutched the summons to her chest and felt her bottom lip begin to wobble against her will. Una-san wrapped an arm around her shoulders and shushed her, reminding her this was a blessing from Ong-Xu, that an audience with the Emperor is what she’d wanted for a long time.

“Don’t cry, Rin-chan,” she soothed. “Keep your eyes bright and your voice strong! Tell your story with all the hurt and pain you shared with me and make certain the Emperor understands. He is a kind man, and he wants to know the truth of it all.”

Rin nodded as she wiped her eyes. She clasped her hands in prayer and gave a quick word of thanks to the God of Gods, then wiped her hands on her apron. “Give me just a minute, I have to tell the children so they don’t worry.”

She went into the sleeping room where Una-san’s youngest children were playing and explained she would be going out for a little bit, and to obey their mother with no trouble until she returned.

“If I hear you’ve been bad, I’ll have to get my stick, and I don’t want to do that.”

Their small voices all agreed to behave, even Una’s second youngest child who couldn’t even walk yet seemed to understand that it was imperative that she behave. She kissed them all on the tops of their heads, then joined the guards once more. As they left she asked them how long it would take for the robes to be finished.

Kidu replied, “About two weeks. That’s plenty of time to decide how to tell your story to His Highness.” He grinned at her. “This is quite a bit better than the palace kitchens, yes?”

Though she was incredibly nervous, she couldn’t agree more. “Yes, it is, Kidu-san.”

* * *

Ling stood on his private balcony overlooking the gardens and the tiny house he used to live in. He thought back to when he and Lan Fan lived there, when life was simpler and his biggest concern was whether or not Turboman escaped the clutches of the villain in time to save the day. Then his father fell ill, and all too quickly he was assuming the mantle of a country in fear of an escaped mad man, and then making history (and receiving more than a few death threats) with his extreme changes to the laws of his land.

The girl who might’ve been his Foshu bride had surprised him. She let him know in no uncertain terms how much she despised him- at first. She had cried as she related her story to him, of the despair she personally experienced at not being able to fulfill her destiny, at how her parents seemed so hopeful that His Highness would change his mind and to not give up hope, at how they were pinning all their hopes on her back and how she just couldn’t stand to stay in the village when all that awaited her were hungry men and jealous women.

When she arrived in Shang-Po, facing homelessness and hunger at the news she couldn’t just walk in from the countryside and go to work in the palace kitchens, she begged the guards that day to let her in, that she would do anything to stay. They led her to the Yong house and the rest was history.

 _“It wasn’t the palace kitchens, My Lord,”_ she’d said with a smile that let him know she was thinking of the house on the outer edges of the residential district, _“but I made that house a palace for the Yong family. Una-san told me the first day they were all bathed and clean and standing perfectly in front of her that she’d never seen them all so precious looking before, and she cried at the sight of them. The pride those children felt at making their mother cry happy tears for once… I couldn’t believe how it made_ me _feel. For the first time in my life, I felt important for something I’d done of my own volition. I wasn’t told to do it, I wasn’t forced to do it. I stayed and helped the Yong family because I wanted to, and in return, they have given me a thousand things to be thankful for every day. Now the older children are in school and excelling, the younger ones mastering basic skills, and Una-san bonding with them all more and more as the days go by. I wasn’t meant to be a concubine, but it took your abolishment of the Emperor’s Challenge to help me find myself. Now I can’t imagine being anything but the Yong’s personal teacher and nursemaid.”_

Ling knew then that what his Dragon had said was true- he had potentially one hundred and fifty talented young women itching to use their intelligence and talent for the betterment of their villages, if not Xing in its entirety. As the summer breeze rustled the leaves and blew the drooping arms of the weeping willows softly off toward the east, he’d decided it was time to call the concubines to Shang-Po, this time to give them a greater purpose and a grander responsibility, a more noble cause than entertaining and bedding him.

He felt the _ki_ of his wife and son approaching, and he turned to watch Lan Fan walk toward him.

“You seemed troubled after the Foshu girl was escorted back to the Yong house. Are you alright, qin-ai-de?”

His arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her into a warm embrace. “Yes. Just reflecting is all.”

She nuzzled his cheek, then took his hand as he led them to a chair and guided her to sit in his lap. “Did it go well?”

He nodded, his hand resting on her stomach. “Sometimes I should just trust my Dragon. I’m going to call the concubines to the capitol.”

Lan Fan grimaced slightly. “You should call them something else. That was the Xing of old- concubines and clan wives.”

He gazed at her glowing face. “What do you suggest calling the young women, My Lady?”

She looked out over the garden, over the rippling pond and the stone path between the flowering bushes, then turned to him. “Call them Phoenixes. If you have a Dragon, then you must have Phoenixes for balance. Besides, they’re rising from the ashes of their despair. They will be more important in their new positions than they would have ever been in their old one…”

“The Emperor’s Phoenixes,” Ling said. He rolled the name around in his mouth a moment, then nodded. “Perhaps I should just trust my wife, as well!” Ling chuckled.

“Perhaps my husband should learn to trust _himself_. You’re doing an excellent job leading our nation. Don’t second guess yourself so much, my love.”

The Emperor thanked her for her confidence and urged her to let him up. “I have to summon a scribe and write up the notice, but when I return,” he said eyeing her lovingly, “I want you naked in our bed.”

The Empress smiled. “It’s been over two weeks since My Lord has felt up to it. I’m relieved that he hasn’t forgotten about me.”

Ling kissed her tenderly. “I will never forget about you, not in a million life times, Lan-chan. My mind’s been weighed down with things that feel out of my control- but trust me, I haven’t forgotten about you, dearest.” He kissed her again, briefly. “I’ll tell the scribe what I want to say and give him the night to come up with something more professional, that way I can hurry back to you.”

“Do what’s important for Xing first,” she said sternly. “I can wait as long as is needed.”

As it was, the scribe was well adapted to putting his thoughts into better words and by the time he left, the final draft was already being hand copied by six of the best penmen in Shang-Po.

And by the time Ling arrived back to his bedroom, his wife was finishing a light snack and was eager to begin. That night, the Emperor slept more soundly than he had in days, though it would be quite a while before such a night’s rest would find him again.

* * *

In the middle of the night, a single rider carrying a satchel made his way to a tiny village on the outskirts of the border of Hong’s territory. He crossed over into the contested domain and went straight to the village headman.

An old and feeble man, the headman asked what he was after. And then he saw the sashes on the horse and he prostrated himself in apology.

“The Emperor of Xing has asked that you provide him a messenger, one to deliver a notice to all the clans who were eligible to compete in the Emperor’s Challenge.”

The old man bowed his head. “Of course, it would be a great honor.” He looked up at the face he couldn’t see in the dark. “May I ask what the notices say? I am unable to read myself.”

The rider smiled, its presence evidenced in his voice. “He’s calling the concubines to the Peony Palace.”

The old man frowned. “Poor Lady Fan…”

“Oh no, not for that reason, Ganua-san. He’s going to give them a ‘greater purpose’ is what he told me.” He sheepishly added that he didn’t know what that purpose was, that the Emperor hadn’t given that information to him, simply asked if he would take the satchel to Taigan and ask for a rider.

The old man took the leather bag reverently. “Tell the Emperor his word is safe with the Shoa clan. We shall see his message sent to the north.”

The Imperial rider left after that, galloping toward the southern border. When he was safely behind friendly territory once more, Zampano pushed the hood of his cloak back and took a deep breath. It hadn’t been a suicide mission after all, and it appeared Hong had left a crack in his defenses. The northern border was not as fortified as they’d been meant to believe.

“We’ll win this war yet,” he said to his horse, patting her neck as she rested a bit after their run back to the south. “Not much longer. Not much longer.”


	5. CHAPTER THREE

Nui couldn’t help but notice the nervous _ki_ emanating from the road off to the northwest. For about a week, several groups of people travelled southward, and the assassin decided he needed to disguise himself and find out what was going on. He dressed himself as a simple farmer and did some investigative work.

The people were reluctant to answer him, and rightfully so. Hong was a dangerous man and Fei wasn’t much more merciful. At last, he got some answers out of an old woman who looked tough enough to squash his balls just by looking at him.

She jerked her pipe from her mouth and said, “Ain’t you heard nothin’? The Emperor’s called all the concubines to the palace!” she bellowed. “Says he’s got some greater purpose for ‘em. Gonna make their families nobility an’ everythin’.”

Inwardly, Nui beamed with pride at the boy he’d helped groom as a child. He wasn’t sure of the details, but it appeared he’d found a way to keep from alienating those girls who’d spent their whole lives waiting to be called to the palace. _‘What plans do you have in the works, young lord?’_ he thought to himself.

However, he had a part to play at the moment, and he scowled at the old woman he was conversing with. “What greater purpose is there than bearing heirs for the Emperor’s Challenge? That brat’s got something up his sleeve I bet. Probably gonna sacrifice them all at the Golden Temple…”

The woman rolled her eyes and went on to rejoin her family, who was journeying with the other families of the three candidates chosen. “Anythin’s better than stayin’ here and watchin’ as Hong rapes our women and our lands. Good luck with the Monster of Minatu!”

As they hurried away, his thoughts turned toward the women in the fortress he was calling home at the moment. There were several girls that were clan representatives before Hong overtook the Phuong farm… If those girls had a better life ahead of them in Shang-Po as… well- whatever the Emperor had in mind for them, then it was Nui’s duty to at least see that they were made aware of the opportunity. If they decided to go, however…

He made up his mind. If the girls wanted to go- if _any_ of the women, candidates or not- wanted to go to Shang-Po, he’d see them safely on the trail, get them in with larger groups already traveling and watch over them until they were a safe distance away from immediate discovery. And Nui could tell Hong and Fei that instead of going southwest that the people were going southeast, put them on a different route and have Hong believe he’d already missed the opportunity to catch them if he found the road deserted.

He walked back to the fields, wandering up a lazy path between the potato leaves and made his way back up toward the barracks in what used to be the barn. He’d need a day or two to plot out exactly how to present the idea to the girls and cover his tracks- and nothing helped him think better than a bit of cannabis.

The next day he approached the girls doing the washing in the stream. He got right down in the water and started helping. They all laughed and shooed him out.

“Whoever heard of a Captain doing washing!”Budra, the oldest one cackled.

Nui grinned. “Well, I thought if you all decided to leave us one day, I should know what to do.”

The women laughed all the more.   The young one with the long braid and narrow eyes, Ginai, said, “Like we could go anywhere without being hunted down and killed!”

“Yeah, we’d get just out of reach and our _Lord_ ,” Budra scoffed sarcastically, “would have our heads on spikes within minutes. At least I’m well fed and warm here, even if my fingers are worn down to the bone.”

Nui leaned in close. “I can get you out, if you really want to leave.” Their laughter and giggles subsided.

“Be serious,” Kaba said with a frown. Her round face became red with frustration. “We couldn’t sneak out of here with invisibility cloaks and flash bombs!”

Nui shushed her and explained that the Emperor- the _real_ one in Shang-Po- had called the concubines to the palace. He explained that even if they weren’t chosen as representatives for their clan, they could join up with another group and hide among their numbers.

Ginai said she had been one of the three Phuong representatives chosen all those months ago. She wondered what purpose the Emperor spoke of and if life could really be different for her if she left. She jokingly suggested the rest of the women could all be her aunts and cousins and come with her so they could all benefit from the Emperor’s kindness.

“If you really want to leave, I’ll help you get out of here,” he quietly reiterated.

They all looked at one another. Budra seemed to be the leader of their group, and she asked Nui as she locked her eyes with his, “Can you guarantee our lives?”

He nodded. “I guarantee you’ll cross the river alive. I’ve already got a plan.”

Kaba looked upon him with suspicious eyes. “Why do you want to get us out of here?”

Nui looked down at his toes. “Because of what one of Hong’s men did to my wife and our unborn child. I don’t want him to get away with hurting more women…” He looked at Ginai. “Or unborn children. Did you know you’re pregnant?”

Her eyes widened and her face paled. “N-No…”

“Not very far along, maybe two or three weeks… Your daughter’s _ki_ is very faint still. And if you leave now, you’ll be able to birth her in the safety of the south, where all families have food and medicine and shelter.” The munitions squad leader was the one who took her to bed exclusively, though he wasn’t particularly tender or loving with her, roughly screwing her as her pleas for him to stop fell on deaf ears. When he was finished, he turned her out of the house he shared with four other Captains, often naked and without even a goodbye.

She stood up suddenly and looked at all of them. “I don’t want to spend another day in this prison. If Nui says he can help us, then I think we should go.”

“I want all the women out,” Nui said, getting to his feet. “Do you think the kitchen girls and the housemaids will go with you?”

The young mother gave him a look that nearly turned his blood to ice in his veins. “I will make them go.”

He nodded. “I’ll leave it to you to convince them. As for how we’re going to do it…”

He sat back down and drew them close around him.

* * *

Hong was surprised when the women came to him asking if they could go two villages over to visit the traveling market from Drachma. He’d never heard of it before, though…

“A traveling market?” he asked. “What is that?”

The oldest among them approached him with her head bowed. “My Lord, it’s a group of traveling salesmen who bring different things from Drachma to sell here. These are things that perhaps wouldn’t interest the true Emperor of Xing.”

He narrowed his gaze at her. “What kinds of things?”

“Bolts of fabric, golden buttons, cooking pots, jars and bottles- women’s things, My Lord.”

“Hn.” He crossed his legs. “And you say it’s two villages over?”

“Yes, in Kuburo, My Lord. We would very much like to go, if it pleases the Emperor. Perhaps they might have some items to make our daily chores a little easier to complete.” The rest of the women behind her were all bowing low, though this old woman before him was bowing the lowest.

Hong motioned for Fei. “Get her five thousand Paisa from the treasury.” Their faces lit up in excitement. He watched as his General handed the old woman a large bag of gold coins.

“Get whatever supplies you think we need. Get two of my Captains to take you in a wagon, and to help you load it up when you’re ready to return.” He dismissed them with a wave and Fei stepped forward, watching them leave.

“How’d they hear about a traveling market?” his General asked. “No one dares to venture close to Minatu…”

Hong went back to examining his automatic rifle. “There’s been a lot of road travel lately, they probably heard it from one of the others working the fields near there.”

“And you’re not worried, My Lord?”

He scowled at Fei. “Worried about what? That women want to be women and go shopping?”

Fei replied, “It seems a very handy story is all. For all the women, _all_ of them, to want to go at the same time…”

Hong stood, angry at his second in command. “And you want me to tell them no? These are the women who prepare our _food_! If you anger them, they’re more likely to _poison all of us_! Now go find something to do to get your mind off of it- or I might be tempted to use _you_ for target practice!”

Fei hurried out of the room and Hong breathed a sigh of relief. He loved women, not as much as he loved Tao or his mother-wife Yi, but he saw them as visions of loveliness and felt they were simple minded and motivated by emotional weaknesses and shiny objects. If they wanted to go buy some things to make their lives a little easier, he had no problem with it.

Perhaps half an hour later, the largest wagon in the carriage house and two strong horses drove out of Minatu, Nui and Chin-Su seated across the bench and escorting the women safely.

“Fei’s such a worry wart,” Hong grumbled, abandoning his weapon inspection for a nap.

* * *

Nui hadn’t planned on Chin-Su being a part of their caravan. That was going to kink up the plan a little, but maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. He could scratch another Captain off his list and bring him that much closer to slitting Hong’s throat.

“Pretty day, right ladies?” Chin-Su asked over his shoulder cheerfully.

They all were as unsettled as Nui was about his presence, but they smiled and nodded at him.

As they rode on to Kuburo, Nui wondered how he would get the Captain alone in order to kill him. He had a myriad of things available to him to get the job done, but how could he do it without frightening the women?

“Thank you for taking us to Kuburo, Chin-Su and Nui!” Ginai said. “Here, have a sip of this nectar tea we brewed this morning from the honeysuckle!”

She handed the large gourd to Nui, looking at him very seriously and shaking her head minutely. Ah, he understood.

“I must refuse, my dear!” he said with a smile. “Drinking while riding, either on a horse or in a wagon, upsets my stomach! Here, Chin-Su. I’ll take the reins and you enjoy the tea.”

Chin-Su grinned. “You’ve got a deal!” He passed the leather straps to Nui and reached back for the gourd. He took a sip and licked his lips. “Mm, that’s delicious!”

“We’ve got plenty, drink as much as you like!” Kidai, Ginai’s sister, said with a wicked smile.

Chin-Su began to gulp the liquid down, and Nui scanned the road for a place to pull off. The women were silent in the back, and he wondered if Chin-Su had noticed they were all staring at him. Then whatever they’d put in his drink kicked in.

At first, he started clearing his throat. Then it progressed to a dry cough, but it quickly escalated into a deep one that left the Captain’s face red and turning purple.

“Help!” he choked out, coughing and gagging until his eyes were bloodshot and bulging out of his face. Nui pulled the wagon off into the woods, the wheels and the terrain bucking his female passengers around in the back like loose change in a dancer’s pocket.

Nui grabbed Chin-Su and jerked him off the bench and onto the ground with a thud. “I’m going to help you, try to relax!” he shouted quietly into the other man’s ear. He told him to close his eyes and try to take a deep breath.   He looked up at the women who were peering over the edge of the wagon.

“Forgive us, Ong-Xu for what we have done.”

They echoed his words as Nui slit Chin-Su’s throat in the quiet little dell. The coughing sounds ceased at last, and Nui closed Chin-Su’s eyes with his palm. The women said nothing, only watched as Nui wiped the blood from his kunai on his victim’s pants. Then he was back in the driver’s seat, getting the horses back up on the road (gently this time) and riding toward the river at a breakneck pace.

“What was in the tea?” he asked as they sped along.

“Gu poison,” Kaba answered. “I’ve been making it since I was a child.”

“Why don’t you give it to Hong and end this mess!?” he cried out. “Why not poison the whole damned army!?”

“It takes too long to make an effective dose. That batch I put in the tea is over four years in the making.”

Ginai tapped his shoulder. “Are you going back to Minatu?”

He sighed. “As much as I would absolutely love to return to Shang-Po and my beautiful Niao, I have to go back to Minatu. I have to kill Hong before I can return, I swore I would avenge our son’s death and I intend to keep my promise.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Maybe you could write to her. We’d be happy to deliver a letter to her.” The others agreed with her and Nui nodded.

“I want her to know I’m okay, and that I love her and miss her very much. That’s the main thing. I can’t say when my work will be done, but I hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

They asked him how long he’d been married to her, how many children he had, things he’d forced himself not to think about the whole time he’d been gone… How badly he wanted to go right along with them to Shang-Po, and find some other way of killing Hong than from within his own army. Maybe he could lead Emperor Ling’s forces right to Minatu and right through the front door of the Hong house-

No, it would be easier and more subtle to do it the way he’d been doing, assassinating the Captains until he was placed at his right hand- and then murder Hong from right under his own nose.

The wagon stopped just after they crossed the river, safely in the southern territories and under the umbrella of the Yao dynasty’s protection. The sun was setting and he thanked them for taking the messages they’d transcribed for his wife, son, and step-daughter with them. There was also a message to his niece, the Empress, and her husband, asking the Imperial Army not to go easy on Hong’s forces simply because he was among them.

Kidai took the reins from him as he stepped down from the wagon. “I wish all of you the best of luck.”

“We’ll be praying for you, Nui-san,” Budra said. “We have you to thank for our freedom.”

“This war will be over soon and Xing will be whole and safe once more.” He smiled at all of them. “Go on and find a place to sleep for the night. We’ll be reunited one day, and I want you all to meet my family.”

He waved to them before heading back across the river, walking back to Minatu and wondering if he could catch a ride with someone- and how he was going to explain losing a wagon full of women and a fellow Captain.

* * *

Hong awoke to the sound of his men yelling, and he leapt from his bed to see what the commotion was. Torchlight shone from a cluster of soldiers and he hurried to see why they had gathered near the gate. They moved out of his way as he approached and he gazed down at a very badly injured Nui, scrapes and bruises covering his body and blood soaking his shirt.

Fei knelt down beside him. “Tell us where we can find the people that did this.”

Nui tried to raise his head, but stopped at the physician’s insistence. “Shang-Po…”

Hong frowned. “My brother may be stupid, but he’s not cruel. He’d never order men to assault a wagon full of women.”

“Bounty hunters,” Nui croaked. “We wouldn’t tell them… Tell them where to find you.” The physician shoved water in his face and demanded he stop talking and drink, and asked Hong and Fei to wait until after Nui had some rest and nourishment to continue the interrogation. Hong agreed and pulled Fei aside.

“I need to clear my name and take my throne. I think it’s time we make our way to Shang-Po and end this ridiculousness,” he growled.

“My Lord, we need to prepare for battle, we cannot simply race toward Shang-Po in the middle of the night without any strategy.”

Hong hissed, “We’ve been planning and planning again and planning some more! The time to make our assault is now!”

“We don’t even have all of our army assembled, My Lord!” Fei pled desperately. “We must gather the remaining numbers from the northern coast and the far western villages! We need at least week, though two would be better!”

Hong spun away from his General and marched toward one of the ammunition carts that sat just beside the barracks and climbed up on top of the crates. He whistled loudly between his fingers and the men quieted as their faces turned toward him.

“My brother has decided that instead of coming here and slaughtering me himself, he will send bandits and thieves to do his dirty work for him! It ends now!” he shouted. “In one week, we will ride until our forces come face to face with the Peony Palace!”

The men cheered and whooped, and he quieted them down again. “Fei, send riders to the villages all around us, tell them to leave at once to join us on our march to Shang-Po . Those who refuse, execute.” He looked back out at his soldiers. “Be prepared to die tomorrow. We will take the capitol back from that charlatan and unite Xing once more!” He jumped from the cart and hurried back to Nui’s side and kneeled down, asking the physician how badly his Captain was hurt.

“No broken ribs, minor cuts and bruises, missing a few teeth and a nasty lump on his head, but nothing I can’t fix with a little alkahestry, My Lord,” the old man replied. “He’ll be right as rain come morning.”

“Good,” Hong said with a nod. “Nui, I want you to help us lead the charge. Sleep while you can, and when I become Emperor, I’ll give my first daughter to you as a bride.”

He saw a flicker of emotion across Nui’s bloodied face and Hong patted him on the shoulder gently. He rose and shouted for someone to bring him some wine, then left the scene to prepare and meditate for the sacking of Shang-Po at long last.

* * *

 

The day Nui returned to Minatu, he’d stopped and gotten drunk at an inn, going on to start a bar brawl that very nearly killed him. He’d underestimated a thin man’s strength and narrowly dodged a swing to his forehead with a heavy tree branch. Instead he got smacked on the side of his head with a shovel by the inn’s owner.

When he awoke, he was lying in a cow pasture, stomach nestled right in the middle of a mushy pile of manure. He hurt all over. Slowly, he got to his feet and went on toward Minatu, now looking the part of a roughed up victim of a wandering bounty hunter.

After the physician in Minatu cleaned him up and used his medicinal alkahestry to quickly heal him, he felt much better, and Fei and Chou-Sueng interrogated him about what had happened.

“We were on the road to Kuburo when a huge man on a huge horse stood right in our way,” Nui lied. “He said he’d heard that the Hong prince was holed up in the north somewhere and that we looked like locals to him, and he demanded we tell him where Minatu was.”

“You didn’t tell him, right?” Chou-Sueng asked.

“Of course not. That was when we saw four more men join him on the road. They had maces and flails, but we only left with our daggers and kunai… We swore to them that we didn’t have any idea where Hong was, but they didn’t believe us. They beat us and told the women to watch closely…” Nui hung his head, pretending to have a difficult time remembering. “They took Chin-Su and literally ripped him apart! They each took an arm or a leg, and the big man took his head… they ripped him apart like a smoked chicken!”

“Gods,” Fei whispered as he winced.

“How did you escape?” Chou-Sueng asked, his tone worried.

“I didn’t. They turned their attention to the women.” He shook his head. “I was so out of it I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t do anything but watch as they raped them, one by one… The shortest among them forced himself into Kaba’s mouth and choked her to death with his length. The rest they kidnapped and took off with.”

Fei looked at Chou-Sueng. “I don’t know if telling Hong-sama this news will help or hinder our attack.”

He nodded. “Perhaps we should wait to see the outcome before anything is mentioned.” He looked back to Nui. “I don’t know what you may have done in your previous life Nui, but you’ve got some really bad luck lately, with all the deaths you’ve seen recently.”

He slumped forward, his head in his hands. “Yes… I’m trying to make it as best I can, but it’s hard at times, wondering if I’m cursed or something.”

Fei patted his shoulder and rose to stand. “Rest while you can. Pray, too. Sometimes that helps.”

Nui thanked them for their encouragement and then asked, “Do you think we’ll really succeed in taking Shang-Po?”

Fei took a deep breath. “Depends. If we can catch them unawares, then probably. Remember, we’ve got top of the line weaponry now. But don’t worry about that now. If we all do our best, the capitol will be ours.”

Nui nodded. “Yes, sir.”

As the two men walked away from his bunk, Nui took a moment to simply breathe and collect his thoughts. He’d sent the women south to safety, but if Hong’s army was going to be on the move south, had he sent them to death instead? Had he sent death to his loved ones and friends as well?

He reached for a cannabis cigarette and lit it. There was nothing he could do now. The pieces he’d set on the board were now in play, and the fate of his loved ones were now in the hands of the God of Gods.

* * *

While Zampano rode north to deliver the notices Ling had drawn up, he also sent two riders south, bearing different flyers each from the northern proclamation. The Emperor sent Bull, a member of the crossbow legion and recommended as trustworthy and loyal from both Bear and Mouse, to the villages between Shang-Po and the Shunsui River. The notice he carried said the villages were to be evacuated completely and to move behind the Immortal Mountains just south of Shang-Po, in the event that Hong decided to make a murderous rampage to the capitol in an attempt to take the throne.

Mouse was sent to the villages between the Immortal Mountains and the southern coasts, advising the villages there to be hospitable as possible as the middle Xingese clans were moved southward for protection from Hong. It said families were encouraged to host another family, that the evacuation would not be permanent, and that the Emperor would personally reward any family who went above and beyond during the trying times ahead.

Both messages to the southern clans said that the deserted village of Tsing-Pei and the commerce city of Chao-Shua would serve as temporary gathering cities if the Emperor needed to address the people. “Shang-Po is not safe as long as Hong Chen remains on the loose. It is my intention to see the southern people through this war safely, and to rescue as many of the northern people as I can. You have my most sincere appreciation for cooperating with these immediate changes,” the documents both said.

Soldiers had been dispatched to help move things along quickly and safely, and as the northern concubines began to trickle toward Shang-Po, they were intercepted and guided further south, the soldiers apologizing for the extra travel time.

Ling, Al, and Mai-san watched from the Imperial Balcony as the families in Shang-Po packed up wagons and carts and began their journey southward, the soldiers packing up those with small children and elderly into larger carts. They spied the Yong brood in one of the bigger wagons, the whole lot of them listening with bright smiles to an old woman talk excitedly. Within the hour, Shang-Po was nearly empty, and the silence was deafening.

“I’ve lived in the capitol for over fifty years, My Lord,” Mai began, “and I have never heard the city so quiet before.”

On the furthest edge of the residential section, four families were seen making their way down the Royal Road and turning past the People’s Shrine to exit the city on the Southern Nuaping Pass. A handful of dogs followed them happily, likely looking forward to the adventure. By the end of the day, only necessary palace staff, imperial soldiers, and officials would remain behind.

“I don’t like seeing the city so lifeless,” Ling commented as he played with the hair growing longer and longer from his chin. “But if it means protecting the lives that made Shang-Po vibrant, then it’ll all be worth it.”

“It won’t be forever, My Lord,” the Golden Dragon assured him.

“Yes,” Ling agreed, turning to face him. “But even one day is one day too long that my people should be away from their homes. I want to step up our efforts to confront him. This has gone on long enough.”

Both men acknowledged his request and Ling excused himself. Though he knew he’d made the right decision to keep the Xingese people as safe as he could, watching Shang-Po empty out as if a plague ha come in the night had disturbed him. But rather than focus on the silent aftermath of sending the capitol’s citizens to Tsing-Pei, he went instead to his royal chambers, changing out of his robes and into sparring clothes.

The dojo was never quiet, and he found solace in the endless noises spilling from the old wooden building. He joined his wife as she did some yoga, heeding Lady Fan’s words about trusting himself.

* * *

Crossing the desert had only taken three and half days by automobile. Maria supposed it would take even less time by rail. Still, it was a relief to see the green jungles of Xing after enduring such heat. It was an excruciatingly hot journey, despite air conditioning in the truck cab, and nothing felt better than a long stretch after riding on that bouncy seat. She looked over at Braeda and Fuery, who seemed to be in awe of the foreign vegetation.

“We made it!” she exclaimed. “And you didn’t melt!”

Braeda chuckled and wiped his face with a damp rag. “No, but there were times I wondered if I would!”

“I don’t think I brought enough film,” Fuery commented.

She and Braeda laughed. “Kain, you brought about a hundred rolls of it with you! I think that’s plenty!”

The other trucks’ passengers were stepping out as well. Braeda went over to Col. Miles as the drivers discussed the next leg of their journey. Maria wandered over to one of the yim yim bushes and pulled off a handful of ripe berries. She tapped Fuery on the shoulder and he turned to her.

“Here, try some of these. If you don’t like them, I’m pretty sure you’ve got heat stroke or something.”

She stuck out her hand and he plucked a few and smelled them first.

“They smell like pineapples!” he said with a grin.

“And they taste even better!” Maria watched him put the grape sized berry into his mouth and gingerly bite down. Then his dark eyes widened behind his glasses and he began to eat it enthusiastically.

“These are amazing!”

“They’re called yim yim berries. They grow wild just about everywhere, like blackberries back home. The Xingese make all kinds of dishes with them!” She ate a few herself, closing her eyes in memory of when Fu-san had given her the first taste of them- and her heart lurched at the memory of the man who’d died fighting to keep her country safe.

Miles’ voice cut through her thoughts and snapped her back to reality. “Alright, listen up! It’s another twenty minutes to Yangsho! Our contact there has already made arrangements for us to stay the night in Xingese accommodations! For most of us, this is going to be a culture shock, but I encourage us all to have open minds and to be willing to try new things! Please remember- we’re here to make friends and allies! Let’s show Xing our best behavior while we’re here!”

Fuery continued snapping pictures while the Ishvalans sang a quiet prayer thanking their god for a safe journey across the sands. Braeda looked up into the canopy above them and whistled.

“Greener than green, isn’t it?”

She handed him some of the yim yim berries. “It’s beautiful here. One of those places that gets into your soul and never leaves.”

Shortly afterward, they were piling back into the transports and making their way to old Yan-Na’s inn. Maria could hardly wait to go in and greet the old woman.   Miles called out for her once the trucks were parked.

“You’re our cultural expert, Capt. Ross. We’ll follow your lead.”

She smiled. “Not a problem, sir.”

Many of the people inside had come outside to get a look at the vehicles they’d parked- and Maria got a little worried when she didn’t see Yan-Na among them. She spoke to someone who seemed to recognize her, apparently a regular customer of Yan-Na’s and friend to Mr. Han.

“Where is Yan-Na?” she asked in Xingese.

“Gen’s bringing her out. She don’t walk so good these days… She’s up in years y’know.”

Miles asked her to interpret. “Oh, he says our contact is being brought out by her assistant. They’ll be right out.”

No sooner had the words left her lips than did big Gen come out, carrying Yan-Na in the crook of his arm like a toddler. Her lined face was amazed at the size of the trucks and at all the new visitors standing in her yard, and then she saw Maria.

“Mari-san!” she called in a strong voice, waving. “Gen, take me to our little bird!” His massive stride had her there in less than five steps and she reached down to give Maria a hug.

Maria squeezed her old body gently, closing her eyes as she spoke to her. “I’m so glad you’re doing well, Yan-Na! I was worried you wouldn’t still be around when I came back!”

The old innkeeper cackled. “Only the good die young, girl! The rate I’m going, I’ll outlive the gods themselves!”

Maria bowed toward Gen, who smiled and bent down to allow her to hug him as well. “How’ve you been, Gen?”

The man was naturally quiet and hulking, but he smiled sweetly at her and replied, “Well as can be, Mari-san. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

She addressed them both in Amestrian, saying, “Let me introduce you to everyone. This is my superior, Col. Miles.” She gestured to him as he bowed forward. “He’s leading our group to the palace to deliver the supplies to Emperor Ling.”

“I am honored and humbled to meet you both,” he spoke in broken and very accented Xingese.

“We are honored and humbled to say that you don’t need to be so damn formal,” Yan-Na said with a smirk. “Mari-san is like family here, and anyone she brings to visit shall also be considered family.”

Miles chuckled. “Then I’ll think of you as a dear old aunt I’ve come to visit, if that’s alright.”

“Just fine!” Yan-Na agreed. “Now who are all the rest of you? Come and let your old aunt Yan-Na get a good look at ya!”

The Ishvalans were particularly smitten with her, especially Scar, who confessed he really did have an old aunt who she reminded him of, before she was killed in the extermination. As for Yan-Na herself, she seemed to be hung up on poor Braeda, with his red hair and infectious grin.

“I’m sure you heard about the false Emperor’s auburn hair,” she said as she ran her fingers through the lengthy bits of Braeda’s locks on top of his head. “I can guarantee you that it isn’t this color, and yours is probably twice as soft, my friend.” She gave him a strange look. “Your _ki_ is exceptionally even… You’re as serene as the old texts say Ming-Shu was.”

Maria told him that Ming-Shu was the first Emperor of Xing, the one to win the very first Emperor’s Challenge as set down by the God of Gods himself, Ong-Xu. Braeda then realized the level the compliment was and his face flushed adorably. He stammered to Yan-Na that he was just a normal person, really not on par with one of Xing’s historical figures, and certainly not on the level of the gods.

“I like this one,” she said to Maria. “You two should make some beautiful babies for me to dote on!”

Now they were both flustered and Maria had to explain she already was seeing someone back in Amestris, and Braeda told her she wasn’t the only person who’d suggested they get together.

“Besides, Yan-Na ma’am,” urged Braeda, trying to change the subject, “we came to Xing to help change the course of your country’s history. The time for babies will come after there’s peace.”

She waggled a gnarled finger at him. “Not all babies come during peacetime, boy. Lady Fan carries the heir to the Yao dynasty right now, in fact.”

Miles spoke up. “Perhaps another visit, but for now, my men need good food and rest so we can arrive as swiftly as possible to the Peony Palace, Yan-Na-san. “

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Clearer heads always prevail. Though I prefer making love and not war myself, you are right.” She gestured to the inn. “We’ve been waiting for you. Four to a room, all the tea you can drink, but I have to charge for the wines. Gen can show you where you can bathe and where the latrines are.”

Maria was thankful that Miles had taken charge of the situation, but Yan-Na asked both her and Braeda to linger a moment longer.

“I’ve met many in my long years on this earth, and trust me when I tell you, your separate energies fit very well together. I imagine the two of you are good friends, yes?”

Maria looked at Braeda, who was as calm as ever. “I think so, yeah- right, Braeda?”

He nodded, catching her eyes briefly. “Of course. We were in a big battle in Amestris a few years ago, and we’ve remained close since then- never romantically though.”

“What’s your given name, Braeda?” the old woman asked.

“Heymans, ma’am.”

“Hei-san, when the Emperor and Empress returned from Amestris, I felt the same thing from them. They’d said the same thing- they weren’t truly together, merely ‘teammates’ if you will. Look at them now. Your _ki_ and Mari-san’s _ki_ are vibrating on the same plane. It’s like pieces of a puzzle that fit cleanly together. I know you just met me, but Mari-san,” she said, turning her head toward Maria, “You know me, and you know I can read _ki_ better than nearly anyone else in this country. Trust me on this.”

Maria swallowed, feeling the heat in her cheeks all the way back to her ears. “I’ll think about it, Yan-Na-san. But as Col. Miles said, right now we’ve got more important things on our agenda at the moment.”

The old woman patted her face gently. “Don’t get so flustered, child. Breathe deep- and feel free to partake of any delight I have to offer you.” She told Gen to take her back inside, barked at her patrons in Xingese to look all they wanted at the huge trucks but not to touch them.

“Hey, you guys coming?” Fuery shouted from the door.

Braeda cleared his throat and yelled back, “Yeah, be right there, Kain!”

“S-sorry,” Maria mumbled.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. My Granny used to say things like that sometimes to people.” He grinned at her. “But it’s a little strange that everyone seems to think you and I are meant for each other, even hundreds of miles away from home.”

Maria looked away from him. “She hasn’t met Denny. She might say the same thing about him.”

“Maybe,” Braeda conceded. “C’mon, let’s go get drunk and forget what she said, whaddya say?”

She smiled at last, laughing quietly. “That sounds like the best.” She led him into the inn, right to the where the best sake was stored.

* * *

Hong’s army charged across the Shunsui River, torches blazing and ready to slaughter anyone who got in their way as they sped toward Shang-Po…

But the few villages they’d encountered just over the huge bridge were abandoned and empty, seemingly evacuated, and Nui wondered if the women he’d rescued had made it to safety and warned the Emperor of what Hong might do once he discovered them missing.

The houses were raided of anything valuable, which included tea- something they didn’t have access to in the north- and all food and clothing in storage chests. Very little was recovered in the way of gold and jewelry, at least in these poorer villages. There were a few head of cattle, but nothing useful as far as horses, and there wasn’t time to properly butcher anything they could eat. After gathering whatever was worth saving, Hong ordered the men to get back on the road and leave the rest for the wolves and vultures.

There was one house they came across that was occupied, an elderly man and woman who stood watching as they moved past. Hong didn’t even pay them any mind. It was apparent that he was determined to make it to Shang-Po by nightfall, and they didn’t stop again until dusk, hidden in an orchard that was maybe three miles from the capitol walls. The Captains all gathered around him inside a canvas tent, listening intently as he gave orders.

“We’ll approach from the east,” he said forcefully. “That’s where they will be expecting us. While we initiate the battle there, Chou-Seung’s units will go to the northwest gate and attempt to come in from behind. My brother’s forces will be trapped within the walls then, and we’ll begin launching flaming arrows and fire bombs. They’ll burn from the inside out, then we take the city and the throne and Xing will at last be mine.” He looked around at the men before him. “If there are any among you who cannot do what I’m asking, I ask you to put yourselves on the front lines and sacrifice your life to further my goal without your cowardice.”

Nui clenched his jaw. He would not let Hong win, even if he had to die himself in order to achieve that end. He knew they were outnumbered, but Hong’s army was full of seasoned veterans and enough criminals that were just crazy and bloodthirsty enough to make the odds work for them. He’d have to be sure to do whatever he could to ensure Ling’s victory- and not get caught doing it.

“Ready the men. We ride when the Temple bells toll.” He dismissed them to their soldiers and prepare for war.

Nui thought as he walked back to his unit of poorly trained assassins (assassins he had _purposely_ trained poorly to give the Emperor an advantage). How could he sabotage Hong’s efforts from the battlefield? He glanced around him, watching as men lined up in formation and talked excitedly about finally doing something besides working in Minatu’s fields and training exercises. There were six young men atop each ammo cart, passing out rounds to anyone who came to get it. Nui wondered if he could manage to get the carts wet and render their expensive guns useless…

Chou-Sueng rallied his troops together off to the side, lining them up to charge to the other side of Shang-Po after Fei’s men had fully engaged the palace soldiers. He had the largest of the ammunition wagons with him, as he’s be completely separated from the rest of the group during the battle. Nui frowned. There was nothing he could do, apart from making some fatal wounds to random soldiers with a dagger on the battlefield. His hands were tied, and he cursed himself for it.

In the distance, a bell _gonged_ to herald the arrival of night, and Hong donned a solid gold helmet and mounted his horse. He drew his short sword and yelled, “Tonight, we take back the throne of Xing and execute the liars who have stolen it from me! I will reestablish traditional Xing and send my brother’s bones back to Amestris where they should have stayed, and cut his whore’s belly open and feast upon his false heir!”

Nui’s stomach turned at that, but he didn’t vomit. The rest of the men around him cheered wildly and Nui knew it was going to be a very long night randomly picking off soldiers one by one. If he was lucky, he’d be able to murder Hong himself and at long last this silent war could end.

Hong prattled on, trying to incite the men even further, but Nui tuned the raving lunatic out. At last, the bells stopped ringing, and over five thousand pairs of feet began to move toward Shang-Po, thirsty for justice and blood…

Nui’s blood thirst however was for the men who surrounded him, and he would see his thirst quenched before the night was over.


	6. CHAPTER FOUR

The nightly tolling of the bells was Mei’s signal to brew and drink the carrot seed that Lan Fan had told her would prevent a child in her womb. Living in the small house in the garden allowed her and the Dragon of Xing to live a somewhat more normal life than they’d lived in the Peony Palace. Al couldn’t get used to the silent servants or the eyes that never stopped watching. It made his _ki_ vibrate nervously whenever they were in bed together, even with their large bed’s curtains drawn and after smoking the cannabis meant to calm him down. Ling insisted they take over the garden home as their own and live comfortably.

“I’m used to the presence of all those who are responsible for taking care of me,” Ling explained one morning to Al as they ate breakfast. “I understand that this is not how Amestrians are treated, not even your highest officials. Take the garden home and make it your own, I had it built with you in mind, anyway!”

Alphonse was in the sitting room, pouring over reports from every corner of the country- Yangsho, Tsing-Pei, Taigan, and even Resembool. She could feel his energies buzzing happily over the news of Winry’s second pregnancy, but also his concern over the rising tensions in Tsing-Pei. Ling had sent the newly appointed Council of the Phoenix there to the abandoned village in an effort to protect them from Hong’s army. They knew the army was prepared to move from an informant on the border in Taigan, and not only did the Emperor move the new council out, but many of the clans that stood between the Shunsui River and Shang-Po as well, particularly if they would be in the path of a potential march on the palace. Ling wanted no one to stand between his brother’s forces and the capitol, hoping to eliminate as many casualties as possible. However, the result was overcrowding in some of the southern villages and tempers were flaring left and right.

Al was so distracted with his reading that she could tell he wasn’t even paying attention to her, or to the bells ringing their deep tones across the city… or that her body was calling out to him silently in every way possible through their bond. She wandered over to him and began to rub at his neck and shoulders. His hand reached up to pat hers and he apologized.

“I’m almost done, sorry it’s taking so long.” His eyes never left the telegram from Yangsho as he responded.

Mei sat down beside him and leaned against him. “Any more good news?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “The armor is safe and sound in Yangsho. They arrived late last night- only took them three and a half days!”

“Wow,” Mei murmured as she wound her arm around his back. Hoping she didn’t appear too eager, she drew nonsense patterns along his spine and said quietly, “Is there anything there that can’t wait until later?”

Al chuckled and laid his papers aside on the low table in front of them. “I don’t think so. Did you drink your tea?”

Mei nodded as she leaned in to kiss him. Her husband took his time opening up and granting her access to his mouth, and she grunted with frustration when he took her hands and made them stop trying to undress him.

She pulled back briefly and hissed, “Stop that, it’s pissing me off!”

He laughed at her, though she felt no malice in his _ki_ at the action. “I’m trying to get you to slow down and savor it!” He went on to say she was more like Edward than she realized and that made her even angrier. “Why the rush?”

She couldn’t say it out loud- but she couldn’t hide her thoughts from him.

 _“I want to feel it…”_ her thoughts said, all while imagining how it felt when he delivered his essence into her body. They’d stopped with the rubbers that Mustang gave him before he left home and had turned to the carrot seed tea solely for over two weeks, and Mei, as evidenced by her state of arousal, couldn’t get enough of the experience. As for Al himself, she could sense through their bond that he enjoyed their lovemaking even more while bare as well.

“I see…” he whispered as he kissed her temple. “Maybe we should go to bed then, so I can give you the complete experience.”

Mei quickly got to her feet and held her hand out to help haul Al to his feet, but they were interrupted by the sound of a horn trumpeting into the darkness outside, followed by more joining in until the sound was blaring throughout the city.

Mei’s eyes widened. She dashed to the front door and jammed her feet into her shoes, knowing Al was right behind her.

“It’s gotta be Hong!” Al shouted as he sprinted with Mei to the palace. They darted inside, the guards hurrying out to join the men at the gates to hold back the invaders. They heard Ling shouting for them amidst the panic from his office and ran to meet him there.

Hoi-sama and Ling were looking out the window. They were unable to judge the numbers shouting on the other side of the walls visually. But the sound of their voices rioting… There were easily hundreds of men out there, possibly thousands.

“Your orders, My Lord?” Al asked Ling, noticing Bear and Mouse standing close by and awaiting orders as well.

Mei watched as he stroked his beard a bit in thought. “Let’s see if the rumors are true first. If they’ve got arrows and swords, this will be an easy match. But if they’ve got guns…”

As if on cue, the _rat-a-tat-tat_ of gunfire began to pop across the field to the northeast. Ling balled his hands into a fist and called for his battle armor and his automatic rifle.

“First things first,” he said grimly. “We get the girls out.”

Mei’s stomach turned to ice in her body. When her brother decided to evacuate the villages that lay between the river and the palace, as well as Shang-Po itself, he’d asked Al to make an escape route from the palace, about fifteen feet under the marbled floor, at the opposite end of the dungeons and near the kitchens where the noise wouldn’t be so noticeable. It wound out from under the palace, under the walls, under the hunting preserve and eventually came out on the Nuaping Road, with the intention that should anything happen to Shang-Po’s defenses, the Empress, her unborn child, and Mei would be safely seen to the Xingese border- and out of the country if need be.

Mei protested immediately. “A swift victory would make it unnecessary to even leave, My Lord! And the Empress isn’t in great condition to ride full speed to Yangsho!”

Lan Fan agreed. “If it becomes apparent that Hong’s army is making a dent in our defenses, then we’ll leave. For now, we’re staying.”

Ling stepped closer to his wife until he stood toe to toe with her, one hand resting softly on her stomach and the other gripping her bicep. “This is not the time to argue with me. I’m not taking any chances here. We’ve already lost one child… I won’t lose another, or my wife, to something as wicked and wretched as Hong Chen.”

Mei watched as tears began to fall from Lan Fan’s eyes, her cheeks red and her _ki_ fluctuating with embarrassment at letting those tears fall in the first place. The princess realized that Ling was ordering them out because he loved them. It had nothing to do with weakness, it had everything to do with his primal instinct to protect those he loved from being hurt by the monster their half brother was.

Mei went to Lan Fan’s side, not as a noble to a royal, but as a sister and a friend. “Lan Fan, we should go gather our things.”

“I don’t want to leave you here,” she said to Ling between her sobs. “I don’t want to lose you!”

“Don’t worry about that,” he murmured to her, grinning. “I’ve still got four souls inside of me who I’ve made peace with. It’ll take more than poorly trained bandits to kill me.” He kissed her hard, then pushed her gently into Mouse’s arms. “Get them down to the tunnel and out of here. Mei, there are satchels waiting at the entrance, you don’t need to take anything with you. Watch over them for me.”

Mei nodded, then felt herself enveloped in Al’s strong arms, holding her tightly as he whispered in her ear how much he loved her. She felt her own tears falling now, but she held her composure in spite of them.

“Try not to check in too often,” he warned. “I need all my concentration tonight. I’ll let you know something as soon as I can.”

“I love you,” she whispered. “Be careful.”

“I love you too, Mei,” he said as he felt her dangling braids. “Stick together, I’ll be in contact as soon as it’s over.”

Bear took her gently by the arm and steered her away from her husband, both men looking as if they’d kicked puppies into a lake as they strapped on armor being given to them by scared looking servants. Mei took a moment to get her emotions under control, then saw to Lan Fan’s well being.

When they arrived at the tunnel, Zampano and Jerso sat in fine leather saddles, each of them holding the reins of two more horses.

“Mei-san,” Jerso said, “Alphonse said there’s a trigger here on the wall to seal the tunnel behind us so that even if Hong gets inside the palace, he won’t be able to find us. He said you would know how to activate it.”

She took a look at it, a simple enough transmutation circle, meant to simply collapse the opening of the tunnel and keep anyone from finding them. Once everyone was inside and the horses moved down a piece from the debris and noise, Mei activated the circle and watched the mouth of the tunnel fall to the floor, and take most of the wall down with it. Darkness surrounded them quickly and Zampano sparked a lighter to life.

“Is everyone alright?” he asked. Once everyone was accounted for and safe, a torch was lit and their mad dash to escape began.

They galloped down the dirt path, headlong into the hall lit only by Bear’s single torch as he led them out well beyond the city walls and away from Hong’s men. They emerged into the twilight, and Mei turned to look over her shoulder at Shang-Po. Archers were shooting flaming arrows over the wall, and smoke was puffing from the east gate. Lan Fan’s _ki_ jumped with panic.

“It’s nothing major,” she said quietly. “Al says part of the stable is still smoking, but the fire’s out. The arrows are being deflected.” The walls surrounding the capitol crackled with blue and red lightning and rose about ten feet, and the arrows that were sailing through the air disappeared, blocked completely by the alchemic solution Al and Hoi-sama were executing.

Mouse steadied his horse. “We need to ride hard if we’re going to make it to Pin-Xia before daybreak. My Lady, please tell us if the ride is too much for you to bear. We’ll make other arrangements to get you and the baby to safety.”

Lan Fan nodded and Mei fought the urge to look back again. Instead she focused on leading her horse behind Bear and keeping Lan Fan’s attention on their journey as well. They took off for the west, hoping to leave their enemies in the capable hands of the warriors left behind in Shang-Po.

* * *

“Come on, you shit stain,” Havoc said as he lay on his belly. “I saw you once, come out again.”

The tiles of the palace roof weren’t particularly comfortable on his stomach but he endured it, sniper rifle ready and trained in the middle of a flurry of men. He knew his target was an arrogant man-child, seeking glory and fame in his battle for the Xingese throne. He wore an ostentatious gold battle helmet, and if Jean could just find him again, _he_ could end this war in a matter of seconds.

He shifted his weight a little, moving the sharp ridge of the tiles to a different spot a few inches to the left. The city below wasn’t completely engulfed in flames, but parts of it were on fire. The stable was the biggest problem. It looked like they’d gotten it under control now, but it had been really roiling for a moment. He watched the Emperor and the Dragon striding quickly from the palace steps, that ancient alchemist Hoi-sama hot on their heels, moments before a mortar caught the grand entrance and rained down stone and splinters on their backs. They never looked back, and Jean made a note to himself to tell the three of them how badass they looked as they ignored the explosion for getting to the front line.

And then a gold glint in his scope caught his eye. “Gotcha.”

He held his breath, lined up the shot, waited to squeeze the trigger in between heartbeats- _POP!_

They all fell down at the sound of the bullet ricocheting off the gold helmet. Apparently it was not just plated as he’d assumed. The group of them scrambled, shooting blindly at anything that scared them, and the gold helmet was flung.

“Damn it,” he growled in frustration, then noticed that Hong and his little gaggle had been guarding something precious. He chuckled to himself. “Might win this battle after all!”

_POP! POP-POP! POP!_

**_KA-FWOOOM!_ **

Jean watched a large cart full of ammunition and explosives blow sky high, catching a tree on fire in the canopy and taking out at least ten men. His Xingese wasn’t great, but he knew the word for ‘retreat’, and when they started running, he started picking off who he could until he ran out of rounds. He couldn’t see over the northern wall from where he was situated. But he watched nearly eight hundred men run in a panic in all directions from the east gate. He wondered if Bull was able to see what happened from his vantage point and maybe take the hint.

As he shimmied off the roof to go to where he could be of more help, he watched a second explosion outside the walls light up the night. “Good on you, Bull!” he whooped as he raced toward the northwest gate.

Gunfire peppered the reinforced walls on the eastern side as he ran, but he didn’t expect a sudden barrage of mortars on that big tower that only the Emperor and his spiritual guides were allowed to go. He could hear Al yelling at the soldiers along the battlements to concentrate their fire on whoever was aiming at the temple, but it was too late.

A rocket propelled grenade made solid contact through one of the supports. As bullets pinged off the gold dome, the stones began to crumble under the weight. It went down with a loud crash, taking out part of the shrine house and the dormitory where the monks lived. But that wasn’t even the most magnificent thing…

A gigantic golden statue had been inside that tall tower, a depiction of a god, sitting serene and calm amidst the chaos of the gunfight that surrounded him. He didn’t have time to check on the holy people behind that big gate that protected Xing’s holiest place, but it didn’t keep him from sending a quick prayer to his own God that those who were there were hopefully safe and sound.

He heard the sound of crackling as he raced up the steps to the lookout point where Bull was picking off runners, and Jean watched Al and that Hoi guy (that looked suspiciously like an ancient version of Ed) transmuting the walls again. This time, the two alchemists made the top of the protective stone barrier curl outward like the lip of a bowl. Given what had just happened to that tower, that was probably a stellar idea.

Catapults filled with flaming oil were being fired at them, but with the walls curled out they never made it over, causing it to splash back upon those who’d fired it in the first place. A second unit adjusted the trajectory, but weren’t close enough to even reach the wall. It was a great defense only an alchemist could have performed.

Their fancy Drachman weapons had been rendered useless, their traditional weaponry didn’t work either- it was looking like a clear victory in Jean’s book.

Bull handed him some bullets. “The rest of them are going to run soon, I can feel it,” he said as he reloaded.

“Did we get all the ammo?” Jean asked as he fed rounds into a magazine.

“There’s probably one more but damned if I know where it is.”

Jean nodded. “I’ll find it. I don’t think they can hit us anymore, but be ready to take cover just in case.”

He ran down the steps, raced to where the extended wall met the temple enclosure, threw a grappling hook, and climbed up along the bowed lip, staying low and scanning first with his naked eye, then in the scope. He spotted the ammunition cart right away. This wagon was the largest, might have even been possibly two wagons under a camouflage tarp. He saw a kid of about twelve in the back of it, gathering up what he could in his arms and Havoc’s resolve to blow it to pieces wavered.

“C’mon kid, move it,” he hissed under his breath. Off to the right of the cart were nearly fifty men running to come for the ammunition and he cursed the kid to the ninth level of hell. “Move!” he growled, though he really wanted to shout the word at him. Others had joined him and the kid was still trying to save what he could.

Jean closed his eyes briefly and said a prayer for him, then opened fire. He shot the kid in the head first, saving him the misery of being blown to bits, then unloaded his weapon into the cart. When it blew, he could feel the heat from it, even as far away as he was. Everyone within a twenty foot radius had to have been obliterated.

He heard battle horns from over the wall, and what was left of Hong’s men were now racing to join their brothers from the east gate who had already run. They were retreating at last, and the siege of Shang-Po was over, at least for the moment.

He took a deep breath and briefly lay on his back, looking up at the night sky. Scattered bright stars and clouds dotted his whole vision, and when he sat up and looked around the city, it was the same. Small fires and black smoke filled Shang-Po and he sighed. “As above, so below.” He took a moment to survey the damage to the temple, saw the men and women in their religious garb opening the gates as soldiers rushed in the check on the injured. He grabbed the rope and slipped down.

Bull was still on the lookout, but not watching the enemy flee. He stared with an opened mouth at the statue that had been revealed in the fighting. Jean went up and joined him.

“I take it this is a very important thing for you to see?” he asked, lighting a cigarette.

“It’s the face of the God of Gods, Ong-Xu. He was the one who created our people, our country… He created the first challenge that chose our first emperor and he is revered in every shrine across the country. Only the high priestess and the Emperor are allowed to gaze upon Ong-Xu’s face… I never even dreamed I’d ever get to see it for myself.”

Havoc nodded. “Maybe he got tired of being cooped up in that tiny tower and wanted to see what his creation looked like after all those years being shut in like that.”

“This is just a sign, my friend,” Bull said, clapping him on the shoulder. “The old Xing will never return. Ong-Xu must be pretty pleased with Emperor Ling to have survived the temple toppling around him and all the shelling. And look at his smile- that’s the face a proud mother might make.” He laughed and said, “Maybe he’s proud of you! For taking out that last bunch of ammunition!”

Havoc shook his head and blew smoke through his nose. “I had to kill a kid just before. Grown men are one thing- they make up their minds and understand the things that they do. A kid can be misled and swindled, not aware of what they’re doing. I don’t like killing kids.”

Bull apologized for his comment, suggestion that maybe it would help to remember that Hong wouldn’t have hesitated to fire upon one of their own children, had the tables been turned.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he agreed, though it didn’t make him feel any better.

He needed a drink. Maybe a bottle or two of that peach summer wine Al introduced him to back when he first came. Instead, he climbed down to the ground from the watchtower and started helping with putting the fires out. Once the city was secured, and after Al repaired the wall and the buildings that had been damaged, he and the other soldiers went back to the barracks and passed around a few bottles of that summer wine, and he passed out after the second go around, his sleep blessedly dreamless.

* * *

It had been a very close call, Nui was sure of that. He’d almost gotten killed in the ammo explosions (he was pretty sure he had some shrapnel in his calf) and convincing Hong to retreat had been hard. Now that they were miles away and licking their wounds, the enemy raged in his canvas compound.

“I want some answers!” he roared into Fei’s face. “Who was firing at us? Why couldn’t we see or detect them?”

“I-I don’t know, My Lord!” he apologized.

“All those munitions- _gone!_ ” He punched Fei hard enough to send him sprawling. “And how is that Amestrian able to manipulate stone like that!?”

“It’s alchemy, My Lord,” Nui replied. “It’s different from alkahestry, but very similar.”

“ _I WANT A DOZEN OF THEM!”_ he demanded.

Everyone backed away from him two paces- everyone except Nui. “My Lord,” he began gently, “We will need time to find them. Getting so upset will not help us find them any faster. Please, have some wine and settle yourself a bit. It was a hard battle.”

The man clenched his fists and banged them once on the map table before him, then turned from them and sat down hard in his ‘throne’. He dismissed them all, but asked Nui to stay a bit longer. Nui poured him some strong wine into a tea cup and urged him to drink. Hong looked up at him with disappointed eyes.

“This was supposed to be the night. Everything was set up right, I don’t understand how we failed.” He sat the cup down and sighed. “So many losses. And nearly all our ammo, gone. We’ll have to go back to Minatu until we can restock. It’ll be autumn before we can make a second run at it.”

Nui slowly approached him. “That will give us time to find some alchemists, to recruit more men, to rearrange our strategy. Good things come to those who wait, My Lord. And this time we won’t fail.”

Hong poured himself more wine. “I need my wife beside me,” he said, bleary eyed, as if he were bone-tired. “I miss her terribly. I want to know what my son looks like. Or maybe I have a daughter…”

Nui nearly frowned at him, but bit it back. Whatever his ‘wife’ had told him wasn’t true. She was no more pregnant than he was. “We have scouts looking everywhere for her.” That was a lie, too. The rest of the men figured she’d run off on purpose. No one thought going after her was a priority. He actually hoped Yi-san had made it to the palace and had found protection there.

Despite the banter between them, Nui was actively trying to figure out a way to kill Hong without getting caught. He didn’t have any poisons on him, just a garrote and a short sword. If Nui strangled him, his guards would hear the struggle. If he stabbed him, Hong might have blood enough to scream before he died, and Nui planned on escaping with his life tonight. Though the opportunity was there, his poisons were not. It would have been a simple thing to slip it into his wine while they were alone… Nui decided he’d definitely have to be more prepared once they returned to Minatu.

Then Hong did something Nui didn’t expect, nor think he was capable of. He looked up at him and smiled.

“Thank you, Nui. You’re a good man and an asset to my army.”

Nui bowed to him and thanked him in return, disgusted that he had to do such a thing to a man so horrible. “If it’s alright with you, My Lord, I’d like to get some rest before heading back to Minatu.” Hong agreed and he exited out into the cool night.

His leg was throbbing, but the physicians were tending to others in worse off states than him. He’d go back to his bedroll and try to pull out what he could. But when he arrived at his bed, he noticed the other captains gathered off to the side and glancing back at him, whispering among each other.

So they’d noticed then. He’d been trying to get closer and closer to Hong, build up a relationship with him, become a friend first and a loyal subordinate second. The assault on Shang-Po had been too close. He was grateful to whoever the Emperor had found who was a stealthy shot like that, and to whoever had brought the guns to him.

The assassin paid the other men no mind. He pulled out a set of tweezers from a tool kit hidden in a pocket and began working on his legs. Slivers of metal and wood came out willingly but painfully, and after checking three times to be sure he got them all, he poured wine on the wounds and hissed in pain.

Fei approached him as he bandaged his calves. “Have you bewitched him?”

Nui scoffed at him. “Be serious. I don’t have time to play games here, not when the fate of our nation is at stake.” He looked up at his fellow captain. “I was fighting as hard as you were out there to secure our victory. I can’t help that he doesn’t seem to be as angered by me as he is by you. Besides,” he said, turning his attention back to wrapping his legs. “I don’t think he’s upset with you, he’s angry at tonight’s outcome. We didn’t plan on them having hidden shooters, and we definitely didn’t plan on them having someone who could change the height of the walls. That one thing made all the difference in this battle. It wasn’t anyone’s fault-”

Fei jerked him up by the straps of his breastplate, the bandage roll falling out of his hands and onto the damp earth. “If I find out that you’ve got him under some kind of spell, I’ll kill you myself.”

Nui wasn’t afraid of him in the least, but he pretended to be. It was what the man was looking for- and Nui was a good actor. But deep down, he knew it was time to start stepping up his killings. “Y-yes, Fei-san! But I swear, I haven’t done anything!”

The big man dropped him back down onto the blanket Nui called a bed and stormed off, the other captains watching the exchange. Not knowing what else to do, He lamely went about wrapping his leg again, his gaze flicking up now and again to see where Fei was or what the others were doing. Once he was done with caring for his injury, he went to the latrine, then went to sleep, dreaming of a day when Hong was gone and he was back in a proper bed with his wife- and making another baby.

* * *

Pin-Xia was in sight when Mei called out to them.

“The battle’s over!” she said excitedly. “No casualties on our side, just some fire damage!”

Lan Fan slumped forward in the saddle, relief consuming her. “Thank the gods!”

Mouse brought them to a halt in the middle of the road and turned to Mei. “Are we to continue on to Pin-Xia or return to the Palace?”

They all watched as Mei closed her eyes and began to speak to her husband through their strange soul bond they possessed. A moment later, her eyes opened and she answered him.

“The Emperor says to proceed onward to Pin-Xia and remain there for three days. He’s anticipating Hong’s army to regroup and make a second attempt, possibly in the morning. If after three days nothing’s happened, we’re to return home as quickly as we fled.” She patted her steed. “So you’ll get plenty of rest between now and then, Yuki.”

Lan Fan wanted to cry with relief, but her tears would do no good out here. “We should hurry on to the village and get off the road. We need to be as inconspicuous as possible.” Bear agreed, and the six of them thundered on to the place where she and Ling had been born and raised.

Pin-Xia was one of the villages that had been relocated, for obvious reasons. The houses were dark and bare, but Lan Fan and Mei knew right where to go, and it wasn’t the house Ling lived in. They settled for the Fu clan’s dojo to stay in. Any wandering bandits would be more interested in gold and jewels that may have been left behind in the evacuation than an empty training house. The horses were brushed down quickly in the neighboring barn and given plenty of feed and water, then Bear and Zampano brought bedding from some of the abandoned Fu houses, along with some bits of food left behind in the storage jars. When added to the rations they already had, there was enough for a filling feast.

Lan Fan was trying her hardest to stay awake, but Mei finally coaxed her to lie down and just shut her eyes. She rubbed at the lowest part of her back and told her Al was relaying messages to her from Ling.

“He says to make sure you rest and don’t worry. Everything will look just as it did when we left, he promises,” she murmured as Jerso took the first watch. Mei continued rubbing carefully and using her alkahestry to relieve the pressure on her back.

“Thank you, mei-mei,” Lan Fan whispered.

“Everything is fine, jie-jie,” Mei said soothingly. “We’re safe here in your old home. Relax and rest.”

Lan Fan didn’t remember falling asleep, but she recalled feeling very calm and very loved by the girl who was once her sworn enemy. Before finally drifting completely off to sleep, she thought if their relationship could change so drastically that there would be hope for Xing to change as well.

In the morning, it was raining. Her automail port was aching and she felt a frown slip onto her mouth before she even had a chance to yawn. The baby in her stomach seemed concerned, his _ki_ pressing gently against hers. Her flesh hand landed on her round belly.

“I’m alright, little one. Ma-ma’s arm just doesn’t feel good today.” The squirming child beneath her hand seemed to press against his mother’s palm and then settled in to sleep. She grinned down at the sight of her curving body before looking up to find the others.

Jerso and Zampano were sprawled out on the floor and snoring, one on either side of the front door, while Bear and Mouse were sleeping in sitting position near the rear entrance. But Mei was nowhere to be seen. Lan Fan got to her feet and wandered out the back to find where her sister-in-law could be, tracing her _ki_ as she meandered through her old village.

Nothing had changed, really. The old huts were still resolute against the elements as they’d always been, and the new ones were built very similarly to the old ones, meaning the Changs had been accepted as lovingly as they’d accepted Mei.

The home where she was raised felt cold and lifeless when she stepped inside. The storage chests and ointment pots that lined the walls when she was a child were gone. The beds were gone, the whetstone that had been passed down through five generations- the same whetstone she’d finely sharpened all of her kunai on when they were given to her- was gone, as well as the shard of the Emperor’s mirror that sat in the windowsill, a sort of relic her grandfather had received as a boy from Ling’s grandfather after breaking the glass when he came to visit his Yao wife.

Lan Fan sighed quietly. At least her loved ones were safe in the refugee camp just north of Chao-Shua. They were close to merchants and the Yomunaga Road, protected by the Immortal Mountains, and nowhere in sight of Hong’s army.

“Ling says he aches without you by his side,” Mei’s voice said softly as rain pittered off an umbrella, apparently one she found while exploring the village on her own. “He wanted Al to make sure that message got through to you.”

Lan Fan smiled. “I know the feeling. I don’t like being apart from him, I never have.” She chuckled, gesturing to the empty room she was standing in. “I would ask you to come in out of the rain, but I have no tea and nowhere for us to sit!”

Mei came inside anyway, smiling to herself. “That’s alright. You should see where I used to live. Your homes right now are in better shape than mine was when I lived there. Even as a princess, our house always leaked when it rained, the wind always blew through the walls, and there wasn’t enough food for everyone who lived there. I’m so glad our two families merged and became one. Especially after that fever swept through and put my two little brothers in their graves.”

Lan Fan nodded. “It hit us hard, too. We didn’t lose but maybe three people, but that’s still three too many. And no children, thank the gods. It was three elderly people who insisted as they lay dying that they had lived long fulfilling lives.” She touched Mei’s arm. “I’m sorry about your brothers. It must’ve been hell on you and your mother and sister to lose two little ones,” she said, her hand drifting to her belly.

Mei’s eyes lingered on that hand for a moment. She said quietly, “Al and I want a baby so badly. Even before Ed and Winry were even expecting, we talked about it a lot, in our letters back and forth.” She looked away, her eyes sad. “I know we should wait until after Hong’s been dealt with, but I look at how happy you and Ling are, and now Ed and Winry are having a second one… I feel like I’m behind, or broken.”

Lan Fan reached out and grabbed Mei’s hand and placed it on the cotton of her morning shirt. “This child, through bloodlines, is partially yours. And I know you must have two dozen nieces and nephews by your royal half siblings, but this one is special…” She could feel her eyes tearing up. “And my first son was special to you as well, because you were his only family who got to hold him, and I know you let him know how much he was loved by all of us before he was wrapped in his funerary shroud.”

That night Lan Fan woke sweating and hurting was the worst of her entire life. She would have rather cut her other flesh arm off than lose the child she and Ling had made the night they were married. And that damned woman who birthed him insisted she not even be allowed to see the babe. Mei begged the woman to let her hold him instead, and she wrapped him in a wash cloth and showed him to Lan Fan, the only blessing she’d had that night. Lan Fan could still remember his tiny features- his thin fingers, his grey skin, the dark hair beginning on top of his head, the feet that were no bigger than the pads of her thumbs…

Mei patted her belly. “This one will live. I can feel it, the strength in his _ki_.”

“And we will get Hong soon, and you can have one of your own, mei-mei. And our babies will be as close as siblings.”

Mei smiled at her. “Yes, they will.”

They shared the umbrella as they walked through the village, Mei taking her to the house she’d found the umbrella in. Lan Fan revealed that it was the house of her mother’s cousin, and some of the things she’d left behind belonged to her children when they were little. They were toys mostly, like a ball and some little carved horses. Lan Fan’s eyes lit up.

“We should go to Ling’s house. Maybe there will be something that belonged to him as a child and we could bring it back for the baby.” Her stomach rumbled and Mei laughed as she suggested that perhaps some breakfast was in order first.

After they’d eaten, they went to the Yao side of Pin-Xia and entered the large house Ling grew up in. Anything that had been valuable had either been taken with them or looted by bandits, though the former was most likely given Ling’s step-father’s arrogance and greed. They went upstairs and rooted around in some different chests and closets in what appeared to be Xi-Fei’s room- Ling’s grandmother. They found some makeup, a stash of sweets, an Amestrian style alarm clock, and a basket of baby things that might’ve belonged to Ling- or maybe even his mother.

“Look,” Mei said as she held up a small fabric monkey. “I’ve never seen anything like that before!”

“You didn’t have stuffed toys as a child?” the Empress asked.

Mei shook her head. “Every scrap of fabric went to making clothing. It was the same in the neighboring villages, too. It was too cold in Binyi to not save every inch of cloth.”

Lan Fan tugged a rattle made from a gourd out of the basket. It had been painted in brilliant colors, just stripes, no pictures. “It’s hard to say who these belonged to. Maybe Ling knows…”

Mei looked toward the closet and got suddenly to her feet. “Hey, what’s this?” She dug around until she tugged it out- it was a sword with the rising phoenix on it, more detailed and realistic than the stylized pattern that had been on Ling’s bright yellow jacket when they left Xing for Amestris.

“That’s the Yao clan sword. Didn’t you have a Chang sword in Binyi?”

Mei shook her head. “If we did, I never saw it. What’s it for?”

“It’s the token of participation in the Emperor’s Challenge. Every clan who participated had a sword. If your sword was ever confiscated by the palace, it meant you weren’t allowed to send a clan representative to the Peony Palace. The Fu clan sword is in the armory somewhere. We had the opportunity to get it back many years ago, but we decided that protecting the Yao child was a much better bargain in the end.”

Mei furrowed her brows. “Why was your sword confiscated?”

“Because the Fu clan wife was barren. She died before she could sire a child to play in the Emperor’s-” she stopped mid sentence and her mouth fell open. She turned to Mei and said, “Of course! That means the Hong sword must be down in the armory as well! They would’ve confiscated the sword after finding out the baby was dead, and they wouldn’t have recognized Hong Chen as the clan’s prince when a _princess_ had been born originally!”

Mei understood, but asked, “But how could the people forget something like that?”

Lan Fan cocked her head. “I recall my grandfather mentioning that not long before the time of the Young Lord’s birth, the imperial records keeper had been murdered on his way home from a brothel by his wife. Maybe Chu Pa-Tuo never knew about the Hong scandal when he took over the position.” She took Mei’s hands in hers. “Send word to Alphonse to ask Ling about the Hong clan’s sword. If he can get his hands on it, that’s all the proof Xing needs to know that Hong is a liar and that Ling truly is the rightful heir!”

Mei closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, apparently concentrating on contacting her husband. Sometimes she would nod in response to him or her lips would move as if she were speaking. After a few moments, she sighed exasperatedly.

“Ling’s an ass,” she grunted, folding her arms over her chest.

“Why?”

Mei threw her hands in the air. “He knows the Hong sword is in the armory, he’s just too lazy to go down there and look for it!” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alphonse is trying to convince him to gather some guards and search the place. Idiot…”

Lan Fan began to chuckle, then she started to laugh, loud and happily. Mei looked at her with a confused grin.

“It’s good His Celestial Highness gets a dose of reality from time to time! And with your closeness to him, you’re probably safe from the executioner’s sword!”

Mei grinned, getting to her feet and helping Lan Fan to hers. “I’m not afraid of Ling, just his laziness. And maybe his appetite!”

They both laughed at that, then set about gathering the toys and sword and returning to the dojo.

* * *

Shang-Po appeared to be completely recovered apart from some fire damaged buildings. The temple grounds on the other hand were nearly obliterated. Al and Hoi-sama were supposed to go down and repair what they could, but when Mei contacted Al about the Hong sword, their work came to an abrupt halt.

“Why did you leave it in hiding?” the Dragon asked, upset that such a key item of evidence was neglected in the weapons stores simply because Ling didn’t feel it was worth the effort of finding it.

“Al, you’ve seen the armory- three floors of disorganized messiness. I’d likely have to tear the second floor apart trying to find it.” He turned toward the window. “Besides, I don’t know who out there would believe it was the real sword. The Hong sword that exists now is obviously a fake, but I don’t believe there’s any way to prove its authenticity against the other one.”

Al shook his head. “There has to be a stamp or some kind of mark, or some indication as to who made it or how it was forged… How old are the swords?”

Ling twisted the end of his beard in thought. “I think at least fifty five generations old. In fact, the Fu clan lost theirs during the reign of my great, great, great grandfather.”

Al’s shoulders slumped. “I guess we can’t get the original forger to verify the design, then.”

Ling was quiet. In a thoughtful tone, he said, “No, but maybe we could find the one who forged the fake.” He turned to Al. “The reason I’ve been holding back on using the records attached to the sword is because once the people find out Hong Yi lied about Hong Chen’s legitimacy, they’ll call for her execution. I’m not sure if you realize how serious of a crime she’s committed. And if they find out that Huilang is Chen’s birth mother, they’ll call for her death as well. I don’t want either of them to be killed for their actions.”

Al nodded. He understood completely- Ling was a lenient man, maybe to a fault, but he wanted his people to be sure that they knew _he_ was not the monster Hong was, and would never be that way as long as he lived. “I understand. But you should still be in possession of such an important relic. All of the clan swords should be carefully catalogued and returned anyway, now that the Emperor’s Challenge has been abolished.”

Ling agreed. “When this conflict is over, I’d like to collect them all and place them in the throne room, so that all of the original one hundred clans are represented.” He laughed to himself. “Guess I’m going to have to get the armory cleaned up then, aren’t I?”

Al grinned. “Yes, My Lord. We need to make room for the inventory coming from Yangsho, anyway. It’s the perfect excuse.”

Ling sighed. “Go and finish the repairs to the city with Hoi-sama. I’ll order some men to begin cleaning the armory up, and go down there to oversee it so when they start finding the swords I can take them personally.”

Al bowed toward him. “Of course.”

“Tell Mei I want her and the others to watch the road for the Amestrians. I want them to bring her and Lan Fan home.”

Now that was a decision Alphonse could agree with wholeheartedly. “I’ll do it right now.”

As he set out to find his ancient half-brother to go finish the repairs to the holiest section of Shang-Po, he contacted his young wife through their soul bond and told her the good news. Knowing that he would be reunited with her again soon made his job feel a little lighter, and he looked forward to holding her in his arms again.

When he and Hoi-sama arrived at the gates to the temple grounds, they found the monks had already cleared most of the rubble away from the partially crushed shrine house. No one had been inside, though some priceless relics had been ruined and half of the structure demolished. Hoi-sama took care of raising the timbers back from splintered chunks into boards and repaired the building into nearly new shape. Al concentrated on knitting the broken vases and torn scrolls back together, and before long, all that remained was the runs of the tower itself.

One of the monks said, “I believe Ong-Xu wanted those walls down. I believe he wanted to see the blue sky and the birds, to not be trapped in that dark tower with the eternal fire at his feet.”

“I think so, as well,” Huilang added, joining them. “I wish to speak with Emperor Ling regarding the holy image of the God of Gods. Please, don’t repair the tower just yet.”

Al agreed, and he and his half-brother took a good long look at the smiling face that had been hidden for generations upon generations. They shared a quiet, somber moment gazing at the momentous golden object before Hoi-sama interrupted it.

“The first time they have to clean the bird crap off of it, they’ll rethink that tower.” He turned to Al, face serious- then winked.

Struck by the old man’s unexpected wit in the middle of such a serious event, Al laughed loud enough to cause the others to look over at him with concern. He couldn’t seem to get his laughter under control, especially when the mental image of the two of them climbing up to scrub the shit off of it popped into his head.

When he was able to speak again, he thanked Hoi-sama for the laugh and suggested to Huilang they at least let them put a protective roof over the statue. When she asked why, he started laughing again, leaving Hoi-sama to explain the reason behind the shelter. She graced them with a mischievous smile of her own and thanked them for the offer but insisted they end their day.

As they walked back to the palace, checking for things they may have missed on their repair run through the city, Al said, “You remind me of my brother back home in so many ways, Hoi-sama! I bet you were a bit of a hellion in your youth!”

The old man brushed the comment off. “Not really. But never let it be said that I ever missed an opportunity to make someone smile. No matter how busy you are, you can always take time out of your day to give a person a reason to smile. It can turn their whole day- and sometimes their _whole life_ \- around.”

Al nodded. “I really hope you get the chance to meet Ed. You two would get along great, I promise.”

“Then I guess I better stay alive for a little longer then!”

“It won’t be much longer before this is all over,” Al said. “Think you can hang on for at least another year? See my wedding and meet your other brother and his wife and children?”

Hoi-sama took Al’s hands and stopped them on the street. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything, thi-thi.”

Al pulled him into a hug and as they parted, he told him he was holding him to that promise. They continued on to the palace, where they had some dinner and played a round of mah-jong before retiring. Despite Mei being in Pin-Xia, he slept well, comforted by family in the aftermath of the battle, and looking forward to the day when both of his brothers could be with him.


	7. CHAPTER FIVE

Morning broke over Pin-Xia, sunshine setting the dewy grass alight in a sea of molten gold. Birds chirped overhead in the canopy, and the entourage from the palace began their day with a filling breakfast before poking around the village. The Amestrians went to stand guard by the road, anticipating the arrival of their comrades from across the desert. Bear and Mouse decided to patrol the fields that were starting to look overgrown and untended, searching for anything they could possibly use.

Mei and Lan Fan picked up their investigative hunting through the houses, this time going through the Chang homes to see if they could find Mei’s clan sword, though they weren’t hopeful- nothing of any worth had been found since the day they raided Ling’s house. Still, it felt almost like tending to graves, gathering up little knickknacks and belongings that were once a part of a person’s everyday life.   In any case, it made more sense to Mei if the items were taken and stored at the palace than if bandits showed up and stole them for no reason other than to simply have them.

Neither one had found anything by midday apart from a pewter canister full of glass marbles. Then they both heard a terrible rumbling sound.

“What’s that?” Lan Fan asked, her hand falling to her belly.

Mei listened a moment, then grinned. “It’s our friends!” They both raced out of the Yao clan home they were scavenging in to meet Jerso and Zampano by the road, who were waving their arms and calling out to the convoy.

Mei was bouncing up and down excitedly, eyes closed as she spoke to Al through their soul deep bond. The sound of five heavy duty engines became almost deafening by the time Mouse and Bear joined them, and at last the hissing of their brakes heralded silence as the engines shut off, one by one.

“Col. Miles!” Zampano said with a wide smile. “Good to see you again!”

Miles climbed out of the lead truck, walked over to the group and shook hands with the Amestrians. “Good to see some familiar faces in this unfamiliar place.” He bowed toward Lan Fan. “My Lady, we were not expecting to meet you so early in our journey.”

Mei spoke up. “The palace was attacked by Hong and his forces. The Emperor ordered us to evacuate- we were surrounded in Shang-Po and they were launching all kinds of things over the walls-”

A large hand fell to her shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help.”

She looked up to find her former traveling companion and friend, the scarred murderous monk known as Scar, now reformed, pardoned, and going by the name Hazim. Mei couldn’t have stopped herself from throwing her arms around him if she tried. While he didn’t return her embrace, he squeezed both her shoulders and spoke kindly to her, remarking how much she’d grown since they last saw each other as Xiao Mei nuzzled his now bearded chin.

In the meantime, Jerso and Zampano explained the military situation to Col. Miles, informing him that the enemy used a combination of primitive and modern warfare, which was both confusing and dangerous for both sides.

“They were firing flaming arrows before Al Elric raised the walls surrounding the capitol,” said Jerso. “But then they were also firing mortars, aiming blindly. None of them were good shots, we’re pretty sure his army consists mostly of bandits, thugs, and farmers.”

Miles nodded. “We’ll handle it when we arrive. There’s enough top notch armor in these transports to outfit the entire Xingese army, head to toe. This conflict will be over soon.” He turned to Bear and Mouse. “Do you understand Amestrian?”

Mouse nodded. “Very ritter speak.”

“Is this place safe to rest?” Miles asked.

Mouse nodded. “Safe. Water in river. Ah,” he looked at Zampano, asking how to say ‘latrine’, to which Zampano replied in Xingese that he would simply translate on his behalf.

“He means to say there’s water and latrines, but we didn’t bring much food with us when we left. We actually thought we’d be moving on to Yangsho when we first left, the shelling was that intense.”

“Yangsho?” Miles asked, placing his hands on his hips.

“We were ordered to flee the country if Hong managed to defeat the Emperor’s army. We’re very thankful that’s not the case.”

Miles nodded. “Indeed.” He turned toward the transports, calling out to them. “We’ll rest here for thirty minutes or so. Now’s the time for a bathroom break if you need it.” Men started piling out of the trucks, Amestrians and Ishvalans alike- Mei was glad to see that. There was a short young man with dark hair and glasses snapping pictures as soon as his feet hit the ground, and then all at once Lan Fan’s face lit up.

“Mari-san!”

Mei watched as a young woman with close cut black hair approached them, a heavy-set red headed man trailing behind her. She smiled at the Empress.

“Lan-Fan, it’s so good to see you again!” The woman covered her mouth then bowed to her. “My apologies, Lady Fan, I’ve forgotten my place!”

Lan Fan waved her apology away. Mei watched as her sister-in-law took the woman’s hands. “You’re my friend, there’s no need to be so formal, Mari-san.”

“I was so sorry to hear about Fu-san… I wish I could have given my condolences sooner.”

Lan Fan nodded. “It’s quite alright. We had to return quickly and your nation had just experienced a huge event. It couldn’t be helped- no need to feel guilty.”

Mari-san laughed. “I must admit, it’s hard to feel sad when I look at this beautiful baby belly!” Lan Fan beamed proudly and brought Mari-san’s hand to touch her.

“And this isn’t my first pregnancy, though this is the first time I’ve been this far along before.”

Mei sighed quietly to herself, wishing she could offer her Ishvalan friend a vision of motherhood like Lan Fan could offer her foreign friend. Scar-san- _Hazim-san_ \- gently touched her forearm. She turned toward him and found him gazing back at her, a soft expression on the hard angles of his face.

“Your time will come, Mei. You’re still young, you’ve got plenty of time left.”

She nodded. They wandered into the village, watching the others fawn over the newness of an actual Xingese village- the one where the Emperor himself was born and raised.  She tried to look at it with eyes that had never seen such places before, remembering her shock at how different Amestrian architecture was. Hazim-san seemed just as mystified by the place as the others, remarking that Ishval didn’t have enough palms to thatch all the roofs and that their homes were multilayered mud homes meant to withstand the brutal heat.

“They look almost like trees themselves- stones among the wooden roots and green thatched roofs…” He turned, saw the large house that the Emperor had lived in most of his life, and blinked. “Well, all but that home.”

Ling’s home had a brilliant red tiled roof, the corners curling upward toward the sky. Phoenixes had been carved into the supporting pillars on the front porch, painted in bright colors and inlaid with polished rocks of varying colors. The doorways were round and carved, the stone steps were smooth and finely chiseled, looking like poured cement rather than hand hewn boulders.

Mei nodded. “This is Emperor Ling’s childhood home, and his mother and grandmother still live here, or did before he evacuated the village. Everyone he felt might be in danger from an attack by Hong was moved south of Shang-Po, meaning if he wanted to get to the free people of Xing, he’d have to go through the Emperor to get them.”

Hazim-san smiled. “He seems to be a good leader, very caring and determined to keep his people safe.”

“I wish I could show you this place when it wasn’t deserted… It was so full of life and so much different from my village in the mountains. And some of the nicest people lived and worked here.” She sighed and looked up at her friend. “War changes everything, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” he agreed, reaching up to his shoulder to scratch Xiao Mei behind her ears. “But eventually the fighting stops. Abandoned places come alive again. You’ll see.” He went on to explain that he wasn’t much older than her when the Ishvalan Conflict began and though it took years, he lived to see Ishval restored.

“I know exactly how you feel, trust me. You have my every sympathy, and my every assurance that it doesn’t last forever.”

Mei smiled at him, thanking him for his kind words. Then a cry rang out from the Yao house, one of the soldiers who’d gone inside adventuring.

“I think I found something!”

Mei rushed over to see what had been found. After all, she and the Empress had picked the royal home clean, she thought. The young man held up two clay bottles, saying there was more in a wicker chest. Mei uncorked it and sniffed.

Grinning, she said, “You found the Fu clan’s peach wine! Was there more?”

“Two wicker chests full!”

“Get someone to help you bring them out, this is a sign of the gods!” She stood and passed the bottle to Hazim-san. “Careful, more than a sip and you’ll be drunk for a week!”

Her scarred Ishvalan friend took an experimental taste, then took a gulp as his eyes widened. “That tastes amazing!”

“Lan Fan’s clan made it- it’s a recipe of their own creation, and stronger than the wines brewed at the palace!” She herself took a small sip, resisting the urge to share the bottle with Scar-san- _Hazim-san_. “Lan Fan and I thought we found everything of value left behind in the house, how wrong we were!”

“Definitely a sign of the gods,” Hazim-san said with a grin. “Show me around a bit, tell me how you and the Empress ended up here.” As they walked, she related the story of their daring mid-battle escape, and their friendship picked up where it left off effortlessly.

* * *

The breeze winding its way around the Emperor’s balcony was warm as Ling and Huilang gazed at the golden face of Ong-Xu. It was a sight they were all still getting accustomed to, and it was inspiring Ling to come up with some crazy notions that he wanted to run by his spiritual guide and friend.

Huilang sipped at some tea. “You seem anxious today, My Lord,” she said with a worried voice. “Have the scouts returned with bad news?”

He shook his head, plucking at a string on his vibrant orange and blue patterned sash. “No, in fact they haven’t seen Hong within fifteen miles of the palace in two days. And my wife will be returning tonight when the convoy from Amestris arrives.” He smiled broadly at her. “I’m not anxious, I’m excited!”

Huilang smiled in reply. “Then something else must also be on your mind. Your _ki_ is leaping wildly from one emotion to another.”

He looked toward the north of the city, where Ong-Xu sat looking off to the west. He nodded toward the statue. “Seeing that golden face in the open air has utterly mystified me. It’s almost like I’m being led to even more radical decisions simply because I can see him whenever I like now. In some ways, it feels like my father is speaking to me through the vision of Ong-Xu rising above the rooftops. That’s why I called you here.” The Emperor turned toward her. “Huilang, you were the first Xingese person whom I told all my plans to and didn’t think I was crazy. Will you listen to these new ideas and tell the truth? Because I’m just not sure of them.”

The woman bowed her head. “Of course, My Lord. My honesty is particularly easy to give to you, for you haven’t judged me when I’ve been honest with you.”

Ling nodded, then took a deep breath and stood, wandering to the railing and picking out the details of their golden god. “I feel as if Ong-Xu wanted the walls that surrounded him knocked down. I feel that when he saw first my brother, then my wife inside the temple, that he wanted to see the rest of the Xingese people, to see how they compared to the best and the worst of its citizenry.”

Huilang replied, “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.   Before, his face was always shrouded in shadow, difficult to see whether or not he was frowning or smiling… Sometimes it would appear as though he was snarling on the nights I fasted within the temple. But with the walls down, it’s plain to see his smile. I believe on this you are right- the attack to the temple may very well have been Ong-Xu’s will.”

He turned from the railing to face her. “Huilang, I want to allow the common folk on the temple grounds, allow them to make a pilgrimage to see him, give him an offering of his own people rather than herbs and dried petals.”

Huilang blinked. “It has never been done before, My Lord,” she said quietly.

Ling looked back toward the statue gleaming in the warm morning sunshine. “Every person in this country has been taught that Ong-Xu is the God of Gods, the overseer of their family god and the gods of the elements. I don’t know how many would come to see his smiling face, but I imagine it would be a very important journey for those who make the trek into Shang-Po.”

The wind bells stirred as another warm breeze skated across the porch. “You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” his high priestess asked gently.

He grinned. “Well, a little bit before the attack, but a lot recently, yes.” He returned to his cushioned seat near her and took a long drink of his cooled tea. “So. Am I crazy?”

Sitting her tea cup aside, Huilang said, “I don’t think you’re crazy, My Lord. I never have. However, I do need to confer with my high council on the matter. Can you let me have a day or two perhaps to return with a straightforward answer?”

Ling nodded. “Of course.” When she looked to be getting to her feet, he stopped her. “Wait, there’s one more thing I want to ask you about.”

She sat back down, smiling. “No wonder My Lord seems anxious! His head is full of ideas!”

“Hoi-sama approached me before the attacks, telling me about his journey through the countryside when he escaped from our enemy’s grip. He said there were so many bright young people in the fields, people with minds that could go so much further than harvesting tea and vegetables… He suggested I open schools in every village, teach every Xingese person how to read and write, how to do math, about the countries that surround us. He said among the farmers and field hands there could be a brilliant mind just waiting to be shown how to unlock it. Huilang- we could have doctors on par with the Amestrians. We could have engineers that could come up with all kinds of new ideas for Xing’s future.”

“You mean share with _everyone_ the knowledge and training that the royal children had in the past?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! In Amestris, children begin going to school around age six or so, and are encouraged to stay in school until they complete all twelve grades of learning, each year is a new grade. My Dragon didn’t attend for that long, but he and his brother were gifted. They also lost their mother when they were quite young. And certainly Al has made up for that gap in his education. He read whenever he could, books about all kinds of subjects, teaching himself what he was missing. If I could get every Xingese person to be literate, they could do the same, even if they couldn’t attend school every day or even a whole season.”

Huilang folded her hands into her lap and gave him a soft smile. “First you propose seeing to every Xingese person’s physical health, by making sure they have food and medicine no matter what family they hail from. Now you propose seeing to their spiritual and educational needs as well. You may be one of the most loving people I have ever met, My Lord. Surely the God of Gods is guiding your gentle hand as you lead this nation to greatness.” Huilang rose and straightened her robes. “I will speak to the monks and priestesses tonight about making the temple grounds public. However, I have no jurisdiction over your schooling project. If you wish, you can declare all of them open right this moment, and would encourage you to at least inform the people in the south that once the war is over, they will have education for all ages in their home villages when they return.”

Ling slumped forward, physical relief flooding him. “So I’m not crazy after all?”

“Not in the least. You have a great many people you are watching out for, and sometimes it takes shaking up the old ways to do what’s best for them. And I think you may be getting quite a bit of divine assistance, wouldn’t you say?” she asked as they both looked toward the smiling face of their highest god.

Ling smiled, his heart light for the first time in days. “Yes, I’m beginning to think you’re absolutely correct.”

* * *

When the princess handed Maria the reins of a sleek black horse, she gave her a confused look.

“We need to give the horses a head start on our journey back to the palace,” she said, mounting her own steed. “They’re not going to follow the trucks you brought because of the noise and we can’t approach Shang-Po after nightfall. You remember how to ride, right?”

Maria blinked at her, then suddenly bowed. “Of course! Thank you for allowing me to bring one of the royal horses back to the palace! I’m honored-”

“No need to be so formal,” Mei said with a smile. “I have no rank of my own, despite my brother and husband’s positions here. We have one more horse available if any of your companions want to ride with us.”

She knew immediately. She mounted up and turned the gelding around, calling out, “Braeda! Come ride one of these horses back to the palace with us!”

She watched his eyes light up. “Hang on, I’ll be right there!” He handed some paperwork off to one of the other soldiers, checked with Col. Miles to be sure it was alright, then came walking swiftly over. He looked up worriedly at the animal. “Will he be able to hold my weight?”

Jerso laughed. “Please, Hey. If he can hold Bear’s big ass fully armed, he can hold you with just a service pistol.”

He carefully climbed up, apologizing to the horse for being so heavy, and Maria thought he couldn’t have been any more adorable. Once he was situated, he grinned over at her. “It’s been a while since I did this, thanks for thinking of me.”

Maria felt a flash of heat race through her cheeks, one that she coughed hard into her fist to cover up. “Sorry, must’ve inhaled a bug or something!” The princess didn’t look like she bought that, but as long as everyone else did, that’s all that mattered.

Once Scar returned from the latrine and mounted up, Mei told them they would be riding down the village trail to the Nuaping Road, that it would take them all the way to Shang-Po’s gates.

“I’m sure the guards will be looking for us, but it _is_ war time. We might encounter a bit of questioning if Al isn’t there when we arrive.” She nudged her steed into a trot. “We’ll go slow until we get to the main road, just to give you guys a chance to remember how it works. But be prepared to ride fast after that. Those trucks can outrun us, no problem. We’ll have to get a big lead on them if these ponies are going to stay calm.”

The horses moved together in a little cluster, and friendly chatter broke out as they made their way south toward the main road.

“So what do you think of Xing so far, Hey?” Zampano asked as they rode. “Green enough for ya?”

The Major grinned. “Greener than green, Fred! It’s absolutely amazing! Wasn’t expecting it to be so humid, but I guess that makes sense, seeing as it’s practically a never ending jungle out here.”

“It’s not like that by the palace,” Jerso commented. “It’s meadows and orchards, grassy and lots of deciduous trees. We haven’t been to the southern coasts yet, but I heard they’re just as different. Maybe we can all go together sometime!”

“I haven’t been there either,” Mei said. “I’m from one of the poorest families in Xing, and we lived in the mountains near the Drachman border. It was just as unforgiving as Briggs in the winter.”

Maria couldn’t imagine anything being as bad as Briggs: record snowfalls, frigid temperatures and gusting winds. To be living among icy rocks as well only made the scene in her mind’s eye worse. “I bet living in the capitol is much easier, then.”

The princess nodded, her braided ponytail glinting in the patch of sunlight they were riding through. “The winters are much milder. Al says it’s a lot like living in Resembool, just a bit warmer in the summer.” She slowed her horse and Maria realized they were now at the wide road that had taken them from Yangsho.

Looking at Zampano and Jerso, she said, “We’re going to charge to the Ghunqua River, then slow down until we’re about halfway to the Northern Pass.   Then we’ll charge the rest of the way in, that should be fast enough, don’t you think?”

Zampano nodded. “It might take them a bit to cross the bridge. It won’t hold all five of those trucks at once, they’ll have to go over one by one, and slowly. That should give the horses a good break before we need to push them again.”

Faintly, they began to hear the rumbling of the convoy behind them. Maria’s horse’s ears were swiveling nervously.

“Your rears are gonna be sore tomorrow, but it’s gonna be worth it!” she cried, gigging her horse into a run and then pushing him harder. Scar took off behind her, handling his steed as easily as Mei did, and then the other Amestrians followed behind them.

Maria looked at Braeda. “Hold on tight!” she said with a mischievous grin, then slapped his horse’s rump as hard as she could. It took off like a shot, Braeda holding on to the horn of the saddle with a vice-like grip.

Once she caught up to him, she convinced him to hold the reins instead. “Use your legs!” she shouted over the sound of their hoof beats pounding into the dirt.

He was pale, a panicked sweat rolling down his face. “Huh?”

“Use your legs to hold on! Like me!” She watched as he found his grip, sitting his feet just so in the stirrups to do it. His hold on the horn loosened and he seemed to relax a little. “Okay, now move with him! Lean forward, he’ll go faster!”

“I don’t know if I want that!” he cried.

“It’ll be a smoother ride! It’s kind of like riding a motorcycle!”

A light seemed to dawn in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say so!?” He leaned forward, grabbed the reins high on the horse’s neck, his arms reaching out the same way someone might reach for handlebars. She watched as his hips began to find the pony’s natural stride, and she had to look away before that blush from before returned.

“Hey! You’re right!” he exclaimed, the color returning to his face. “It’s a lot like riding a motorbike!” He urged the horse a little faster, going a little ahead, leaving Maria at the very back. She was thankful for the bit of privacy in light of whatever was happening between them. She growled at herself in frustration.

“You’ve got a perfectly wonderful boyfriend back home, there’s no need to do something stupid because of things that were said by Yan-Na-san,” she muttered, her heels pushing her horse to catch up. But she couldn’t get the image of Braeda’s hips rocking out of her mind. There were a hundred other things she needed to be thinking about, but the thought of him rocking his hips _against her like that_ …

Her face burned with embarrassment. She’d never thought about Denny that way, despite having been intimate with him many times. He fulfilled every request in the bedroom she’d ever made, but had never truly let go with her. She had a feeling Braeda could do both, and when her imagination began to wander into the land of ‘What If’ and ‘Would He’, she could feel her face reddening again.

“Enough,” she said to herself. “This is a race to the Peony Palace, not the time for stupid fantasies.” She caught up to Braeda, still riding comfortably now that he’d figured out how to. She glanced at those powerful hips and bit her tongue. _‘No more blushing,’_ she told herself.

“Doing alright?” she asked.

The smile he gave her melted her heart. He was beaming happily back at her. “This is incredible!” he whooped. “Like a frontier movie!”

Maria couldn’t help but smile back at him as he asked her how to make the horse go even faster.

* * *

The most recent reports of Hong’s army had him on the road back north, but the guards lined the battlements anyway, ready to fire upon any enemies as their allies approached from the west. Alphonse stood with Ling outside the northwest gate of Shang-Po, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their comrades on horseback. Before they could become more than moving pinpoints of color on the horizon, Mei sent her husband a message:

 _“Where is the temple?”_ she thought to him, worried that the city had received more damage than he’d let on.

 _“There was sort of a happy accident, nothing to worry over,”_ he thought in return.

He watched his wife break away from the pack, her horse running flat out now to meet them. Al could feel their energies reaching out for one another, until at last she was within range of jumping into his arms.

She kissed him soundly on the mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck and squeezing tightly. Al closed his eyes and took in her warmth, her scent, her closeness. “Welcome home,” Al murmured as he held her.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” she replied. She turned her face upward for another kiss, then stepped out of his embrace. “Look who came with us!”

Five riders approached, Jerso and Zampano he expected, but not the other three. He saw Mustang’s trusted Lt. Braeda- now promoted, if the pattern on his shoulders was any indication. Maria Ross rode toward them as well, but the Ishvalan monk with the scar crossing his eyes surprised him the most. He looked nothing like the Scar he’d known before, and every bit as kind as Mei had always insisted he was. They slowed to a trot as they came closer, then they finally stopped and dismounted before him and the Xingese Emperor.

Al smiled at the familiar faces in front of him. “On behalf of the people of Xing and Emperor Ling, allow me to welcome you to the Imperial city of Shang-Po, everyone! It’s wonderful to see familiar faces!”

Ling spoke as he stepped forward, “Make yourselves at home. We’ll be setting you all up at the inn in the business district, though it might be a bit of a tight fit. We want all of the soldiers close together in case Hong decides to make another attempt to take the capitol, though it’s highly unlikely he’ll try it again so soon after his blistering defeat.”

“I’m sure Col. Miles wants a full report of what happened,” Maria said in Xingese. “He’ll want to know all the details so we can best work together if that happens during our visit.”

“How long do you plan on staying?” Ling asked.

“A month, but that can be lengthened or shortened by however long you need us, My Lord. We certainly don’t wish to overstay our welcome.”

The Emperor waved his hand. “Please, Shang-Po is mostly evacuated now. It’s nice to have people in the city again. I assume you’ll want to sight-see a little and take pictures, all the cultural stuff that I’m sure Mustang is itching to get his hands on, being of mixed Xingese heritage himself. Stay as long as you like, we’ve got plenty of room at the moment.” He turned to Alphonse. “Let’s put the horses away and then-”

 ** _“AS I LIVE AND BREATHE!”_** a voice cried out excitedly in Amestrian. Everyone looked toward the lookout at the top of the gate, finding Jean Havoc waving down to his best friend.

Braeda’s face split into a wide grin. He cupped his mouth and hollered back, **_“GET DOWN HERE, YOU ASSHOLE! LEMME CHECK OUT THAT TAN!”_**

Al couldn’t help a laugh at their friendly banter, especially when Jerso and Zampano chided Braeda for his language in front of both a lady _and the goddamned Emperor of Xing._ However, Ling couldn’t care less and Maria seemed even less offended. Havoc soon joined the group and he and Braeda threw their arms around each other, pounding one another on the back as Havoc babbled on about how awesome it was they’d made it across the desert.

Al felt Mei’s hand slip into his. “Did you find the Hong sword?”

Al sighed. “The armory is a complete mess. It’s been so long since anyone’s needed any of the stuff in there that things have just kind of gotten shoved from one corner to the other. We’re going to have to organize it as we go, probably emptying complete rooms as we consolidate and rearrange it all. But to answer your question, no- haven’t seen it yet.”

“Well, I know what we’ll be doing tomorrow,” she commented, propping her other hand up on her hip. “It’s in that armory somewhere, and we need to find it quickly. We also need to make room for our new supplies, so we’ll start a bucket brigade and methodically empty the entire building, then get rid of whatever we can no longer use.”

He closed his eyes and bit back a sigh. “No rest for the wicked, they say.”

“You can rest when we’re through with this war,” Mei said gently.

Shaking his head, he grinned at her. “We’ll be planning a wedding directly afterward, and hopefully becoming parents soon after that. And who knows what the Emperor will dream up next. No rest for me. At least it’s a different kind of unrest. It’s not the same as when I was kept in armor against my will.”

Her eyes turned wistful. “I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for that suit of armor. I know it was a prison for you in many ways, but I’ll never forget the moment I fell in love with you.”

Al recalled the feeling (or rather, the _absence_ of feeling) when he first realized the nature of his attachment to his young wife. It wasn’t the same as the physical rush of a first love that dilated the eyes and blood vessels and made the heart speed up in one’s chest, but it was definitely a fond memory he had, one of very few he experienced while bound by the blood seal.  Mei clued in on his thoughts and he could feel her _ki_ flexing against his- full of love but also a twinge of something more, something _hot_ and _needful_.

Al squeezed her shoulder gently. “Remind me when we get home tonight to pick up where we left off.”

She gave him a sly grin. “Let’s hope we can arrange that sooner rather than later.”

His eyes looked out along the horizon. “Probably three or four hours of daylight left, let’s get the horses settled and have Mingxia get our guests put up at the inn. Once everyone understands that the bucket brigade is going to begin after breakfast and we start emptying the armory room by room, we can go home.”

“I can’t wait,” Mei sighed as she hugged him tightly.

“Look at that,” Havoc said, loud enough for Al to hear. “This kid’s got more sex appeal in his pinkie than either of us do put together!”

“Speak for yourself!” Braeda crowed. “I had two warthogs in the jungle tell me I’m absolutely dashing!”

“At least you haven’t been openly turned down, like I was when I first came here!” Maria chimed in. “I was told by several Xingese men that I would never find a husband if I didn’t grow my hair out!”

The Emperor laughed, gathering the reins to one of the horses and leading it toward the gate. “I assure you not every Xingese man felt that way! My father told me he’d heard of you and those rumors about your short hair. He said short hair would be so much more practical in the bedroom- it can’t get in the way like long hair does!”

“Besides,” Mei added, “it’s still long enough to grab hold of. Al’s hair is about the same length and I can hold onto his just fine!”

Al watched Maria’s face turn red, her _ki_ trembling anxiously as her eyes darted toward Braeda…

 _“You noticed that too?”_ Mei asked him through their soul bond.

_“What’s going on with them?”_

_“I haven’t asked, maybe you’ll have better luck figuring it out,”_ she replied, gathering the reins of two horses and following the Emperor.

Filing the questions he had to the back of his mind for the moment, the Dragon changed the subject, asking the newcomers what they thought of Xing so far. They toured the People’s Shrine and peered through the gates of the Temple grounds that housed the enormous golden statue of Ong-Xu, then wove their way through the residential district back to the business district where the inn stood. By the time Al led them back toward the palace, the trucks had arrived.

Getting the trucks into the city and parked in a neat line was easy, stuffing them into the inn had not been as simple, and some of their guests ended up spending the night at the infirmary across the street. Thankfully there was enough food for everyone, and enough wine as well with the cache of peach summer wine found in Pin-Xia. Once everyone was settled, Al and Mei retired to their small house in the royal gardens, doing their best to ignore the sounds floating down from the Emperor’s bedchambers.

His own lovemaking seemed as rushed and frantic as the Emperor’s though he’d never mention it. Mei was just as hungry, and it took them three times to burn off their desire at last. As he held her in his arms afterward, he promised no matter what, he’d never send her away like that unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I was almost sick afterward, knowing you were so far away and that Hong could be riding in any direction,” he whispered, his fingertips trailing slowly up and down her back. “We better die together, or it’ll kill us to live without one or the other.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Mei’s lips caught his lazily. Al let her take whatever she needed from him without complaint. Then she paused, giggling. “I think I figured it out,” she said, grinning.

“Figured what out?”

“Mari-san. She likes that red headed one, the one from Mustang’s team.”

Al quirked an eyebrow at her. “Maria likes Braeda? You sure? Doesn’t seem like her type to me…”

“Their _ki_ is very well matched, though. Anyway, that’s what I think it is.” She began to kiss him again, this time more forcefully. She shifted in his arms, then moved to pull him to hover over her. Her own _ki_ was teasing his wantonly. “Once more? Please?”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I think you’re trying to kill me. Are fingers okay?”

“Mouth, too?” she asked breathlessly, guiding his hand southward on her body.

“Of course,” he replied as he closed his eyes to kiss her neck.

Finally, they washed up and climbed back into bed to sleep. Al dreamed of lying in the grass in Resembool, he and Mei surrounded by Ed and Winry’s children as well as a few extra- some with big dark gold eyes and jet black hair. When he stood to turn and find his brother and sister-in-law, he came face to face with the image of Ong-Xu.

“You are blessed among my people, Golden Dragon,” he said in a kind, old voice, deep and soothing. “You have left your home and kin behind to help the Yao Emperor shepherd my people into a new era. I have looked in your heart and you have done these things for no gain of your own, simply because your friend requested you to help, and you heeded his calling.”

Al was stunned to hear the vision speaking, especially to _him_. “I swore an oath to the Emperor and the people of Xing, and I will uphold it until I die.”

“The conflict between the brothers will end when the Shunsui River floods and the Jochu Road is washed out. And after that-“

The God of Gods gestured to the sky, to a pair of clouds roiling and rolling against the blue expanse overhead. They joined together, dominating the horizon before two smaller clouds broke off from the thunderhead. Another small cloud emerged, then another and another.

“I am recognizing your clan as one of mine. Your house shall be known by the symbol of a cloud of gold, and Hoi Bawa will be included in that house, as well as your remaining kin in your homeland.”

When Al awoke in the morning, he stepped outside to look at the sky-

And it was shining with golden cumulus clouds.

* * *

The blade in Nui’s hand was now sparkling, though only minutes before, it had been covered thickly in the blood of one of the lesser captains. He’d killed four of them in the days following the retreat to Minatu. The assassin was staging their bodies to make it look like suicide, using an old technique he’d picked up from his father that no one used anymore.

Nui would walk up naturally, as if about to start a conversation. He’d time his enemy’s breathing just right, and finally when his foe drew in a breath to respond to some comment or another, Nui would simply toss in a smooth pebble, just large enough to get wedged in the throat and cause asphyxiation. Once his victim was silenced, he’d literally disembowel the person as they choked to death, removing the pebble only after death, the smearing the deceased’s sword in his own entrails before carefully placing the body to appear as though they’d committed the act of honorable death.

Nui always made sure to bring an extra set of clothes with him and to bury the clothes he wore immediately afterward, using a gourd of water to rinse his hands and blade, and though he hadn’t been caught yet, he had a feeling some of the others were getting suspicious. Autumn was still a few weeks off. If the prophecy his unborn son had told him was true, the war would be over very soon. Nui only wished he knew how the end would come.

He wandered back to Minatu, not telling anyone about the man he’d murdered, instead letting someone else discover the body. He’d killed seven men over the past ten days, and he’d been promoted twice as a result. Now there only remained two that were in his way, Chou-Sueng and Fei. Chou-Sueng would be easy, the man was a heavy sleeper and a light weight drinker. Nui didn’t expect to have any issue simply getting him to either drink himself to death or accept poison easily. Fei on the other hand…

Fei was huge for an older man, distrusting of everyone, particularly of Nui.   But on the other hand, the man trusted Chou-Sueng like a brother. He was a heavy drinker, prone to violence when he was drunk, and he had an indomitable competitive streak. If he lost a game of checkers, he would beat himself up over for days. Perhaps he could challenge Fei to some kind of test of skill or wits where he was sure to lose, and put his position on the line as the prize.

Nui was still thinking about it when he entered the barracks. The men were gathered around a bunk talking excitedly as they passed around a piece of paper.

“I just can’t believe it,” one of them said. “Is he trying to win families back or genuinely just wants to do these things?”

Another shook his head. “It seems too good to be true, but you read what our contact on the border had to say about the southern people. No one’s poor anymore! And no one’s hungry or sick!”

“Do you ever think maybe we picked the wrong side?” someone whispered quietly. The men all answered him at once, the replies as varied as the voices giving them.

“What’s going on?” Nui asked as he approached the cluster of men.

The message was passed quickly over to him. A mortar man said, “It’s Emperor Ling, he’s at it again! This time he’s decided to open the Temple complex up to the people of Xing, saying it’s a sign of Ong-Xu himself that the walls fell down! And then he went on to announce a council made up of women to represent the clans _and_ that all of Xing will be allowed access all the education they want! For _free!_ ”

Nui read the document, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s quite a big package to add on to what he’s already implemented. Sounds like he’s trying to raise Xing into a superpower like Drachma!”

An older soldier commented, “Wow, can you imagine? Xing with tanks and cars, those radio controlled weapons we heard about from Aerugo? That would be awesome!”

Nui nodded, then said quietly, “We’re not going to do that if we stay with Emperor Hong though. He wants the old Xing back, including the poverty, plagues and the Emperor’s Challenge.”

The men looked at each other. “Are you suggesting we desert him? Go south and take advantage of everything Emperor Ling’s put into place?”

Nui shrugged. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m simply stating a fact. Hong-sama has said many times he’s going to right the usurper’s wrongs. You must decide for yourselves what _you_ think is right, now. A point of no return is coming, I feel. Either you support Hong Chen wholeheartedly, or you’re on the wrong side. I can’t say which man is the right one, but ask yourself which one you’re willing to die for and that should help give you the right answer.” He handed the notice back to the group. “As for me, I’m not going anywhere except to bed.”

The others chuckled at his remark, Nui bidding them goodnight as he settled in his own bunk. He was so proud of that boy in Shang-Po. He was going ahead with his plans, with or without the rest of the clans, and rubbing it in their faces every chance he got. That notice didn’t end up in Minatu by accident, Nui had a feeling. He settled into the blankets on his bed and ignored the others, who stayed up talking amongst each other until late into the night.

When Nui awoke, he was alone. Rubbing at his eyes, he got up and dressed, feeling bleary and unrested from all the commotion the night before. But when he opened the door to the barracks, the sun had barely risen above the horizon. He thought he’d overslept by at least two hours, but he was mistaken. He went back inside to see if he could find any clues as to where they’d all gone, only to find the notice lying on one of the bunks.

Written very poorly below the last line was written, “Right or wrong, Ling’s people live better than Hong’s. Going south.”

That made nearly eighty men gone in a single night, and they’d lost over seven hundred between the battle and deserters on the trek back to Minatu. Then there were the actual suicides (all of the chimaeras had killed themselves immediately after the battle) and the assassinations he’d been carrying out… Hong’s numbers were dwindling, and quickly. He decided to play the part of surprised Captain to Hong.

“My Lord!” he cried urgently as he barged into the house, waking his two targets as he yelled. “My Lord! The second barracks was empty this morning apart from me! I found this Imperial notice on one of the bunks!”

Hong woke with a start, eyes blinking and hair an oily mess. He reached out for the parchment and read it quickly. By now, Fei and Chou-Sueng were in the doorway. He tossed the notice into the floor and rolled back over in his bed.

“Let them go, the cowards.”

Even Nui was surprised by his reaction. “My Lord, shouldn’t we stop them?”

“No. Now get out.”

Fei spoke up. “But how will we secure the throne?”

“We still have the shadow warriors from Khumri. They’re deadlier than a bunch of morons who can’t properly fire guns, anyway.” He laughed to himself. “Don’t worry so much, Fei. The throne will be mine soon. Go back to sleep. Just think of it this way- we’ll have more food to ourselves now.”

Nui looked over his shoulder at Fei and Chou-Sueng, who stood staring at their leader with worried expressions on their tired faces. Hong shooed them out again and Nui joined his fellow Captains in the next room.

“What is he thinking?” Nui asked quietly. “How is he not more concerned about this?”

Fei crossed his arms in thought. “His first campaign was a failure, and now he’s losing men faster than he gained them. Add to that his missing mother and you’ve got all the ingredients for a great big pot of ‘Fuck This’ soup. We’re going to have to manage without him for a while I think.”

Chou-Sueng nodded. “We’ve got to get the desertion under control and summon the shadow warriors. We need to make another run at the capitol before too long- this time with our most silent and stealthy assassins. We’re not going to win this war with advanced weaponry, but with strategy and skill.” He looked at Nui. “We need you now more than ever, Nui. Can we count on you?”

His heart felt like lead in his chest. Though it killed him to say it, he replied, “Of course.”

Yes, he would definitely need to step up the time table on the deaths of the two men before him if he was going to have any shot at all at ending this nightmare. Mentally, he placed a big red target on Chou-Sueng’s face.


	8. CHAPTER SIX

Ling was dressed in his dojo clothes- a sleeveless blue tunic and white knee length pants that simply tied at the waist. His hair was braided into a long ponytail and gathered up in a sort of bun at the back of his head, and he wore wooden clogs to protect his toes. He stood at the head of a long line of Xingese guards and soldiers, also dressed similarly, with the very end of the line being made up of their Amestrian and Ishvalan visitors.

He yelled down the row of people, “I don’t know how long this is going to take us! We will stop and rest every hour for a few minutes until we empty the stall we’re working on!” He pointed to the very end of the line. “Forward Captain Jintao will sort the items as they are passed down! What is usable we will keep, what isn’t useable will be piled off to the side and gone through later! We will need to empty the entire floor before we can put things back into place!”

His line of helpers seemed to groan under their breaths unanimously. It couldn’t be helped though- the place was a wreck from years of not using it and items being put back in the wrong places. Not to mention it was filled with cobwebs, spider, dirt, mice droppings and who knew what else. “The stables hands are prepared to go in and clean out the stalls with brooms and mops while we take our breaks! Any questions before we begin?” Nothing came from the crowd lined up before him. “If we work steadily, we should be able to get the first floor finished before dinner! We’ll be doing this tomorrow on the second floor as well!” More grimacing and low groans. “Soonest begun is soonest done! Follow me!”

He led the line into the armory, a large building near the dojo that was nestled up to the wall near the private gardens behind the Peony Palace. The very first stall on the left is where the Emperor began, picking up a long spear with a forged steel head. “Here we go,” he said as he handed it off to his Dragon, directly behind him, who passed it on to Mai Renchen, who passed it along down the line.

By noon, they were halfway through the first floor, the sorting process going much smoother than the actual gathering process at this point. They were at the breastplates and pauldrons now, and the laces on everything were tangled up nightmares. Chunks of armor were being passed down now, sometimes six or seven to a chunk, and they weren’t light. To make matters worse, the hot July sun was unforgiving. Those out in the sun were getting sunburned and those in the armory were being baked alive.

Thankfully, by the time they were finished with the first floor, they could reach the back entrance and open both doors for a cooling cross breeze to finish out the last stall. Buckets of cold water, rags, and cups passed out to cool off with just before the end of the day.

Mei brought Ling and Al theirs, asking, “Did you find the sword?”

Ling wiped his face with the cool, wet cloth as drank deeply. “If I had I would’ve gone right away to Chu Pa-Tuo’s office demanding he drop everything to find out more about the sword’s delivery to the armory. Al would’ve finished up cleaning out the sections if I’d found the sword today. As it is, I’ll be out here tomorrow, helping put things back before we move on to the second floor. No doubt it’s up there, with about fifty other swords.” He gestured to the opened armory. “But look how clean it is in there!” He whistled at the stable hands. “Great job, everyone! You could eat off those floors, now!”

“Speaking of eating,” Al commented, “I think it’s time to end the day, My Lord.”

Ling nodded. “I agree. Mei-mei, you took care of that right?”

“Of course. The inn is ready to serve our guests, the barracks have been loaded up, and dinner will be ready shortly for the rest of us in the formal dining room.”

“Moon cakes?” Al asked with a smile.

“Yes, red bean ones.”

Ling clapped Al on the shoulder. “Excellent work today, my friend. I honestly didn’t think we would get the first floor finished today.”

Jintao approached him, wiping sweat from his brow. “My Lords, the armor and weaponry we removed from the storehouse has been sorted and is ready to deposit back into the appropriate places in the morning. We even got all the breastplates untangled.”

“That’s great,” Ling said, smiling proudly. “I knew we could do it if we all worked together!”

“Hey, the bucket brigade was _my_ idea, Your Highness!” Mei reminded him.

“Yes, it was, and looked how right you were about it!” He stood up and shouted, “Go eat and rest! We’ll have another busy day tomorrow! Great work everyone! Thank you for your efforts!” The men dispersed and Ling walked with Al, Mei, Hoi-sama and Mai back to the Palace.

Lan Fan was practically vibrating in her seat at the table when they arrived. She wore a short sleeved summer shirt, a nicer version of something he’d seen her wear in the village when they were younger. The Empress’ stomach was growing bigger every day, and she’d taken to wearing swordsman pants for their comfort and adjustable waists.

“Come and sit down!” she cried excitedly.

“You’re awfully excited,” Ling said with a smile. “What could’ve possibly happened today that didn’t happen yesterday?”

“Come and sit!” she insisted, grasping his hand and tugging him down to sit beside her. He kissed her cheek as she took his hand and put it on her belly. “Now wait just a moment…”

Ling gave her a confused look- and then everything became clear. Her stomach _moved_. There was a thump against his palm, then something moving from one side to the other, then two lighter thumps…

“Is that him?” he breathed, his eyes wide as he simply took in the sensations against his splayed hand.

“Yes!” Lan Fan squeaked. “That’s our son!”

“The baby’s kicking!” Al cheered. “That’s awesome! Congratulations, you two!”

Ling gently rested his head against her stomach, listening though her robes for the baby’s heartbeat, though he could clearly feel his son’s _ki_ flexing inquisitively outward from his mother, probably wondering what was pressing in on him. He could hear the steady thrumming of the boy’s heart just under his mother’s slower beat pattern. “You’re so strong, little one! This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life…”

He kissed his wife on the mouth, holding hard onto the tears of joy that burned to spill from his eyes. Lan Fan however couldn’t control hers. Mei came to her side with a napkin to dry her eyes on, then asked if she could feel the baby moving as well.

“Please, everyone come and meet him! I ‘ve been feeling him move inside for about a few weeks now, but today is the first time I’ve felt him move _outside_ of me!” Mei put her hand on the other side of Lan Fan’s tummy and grinned when she felt her nephew turning over.

“You should start thinking of names, My Lady. We need to know what to call him!”

Lan Fan nodded. “After we find the Hong sword, My Lord and I will discuss it, right?”

Ling agreed. “Yes, I want to use his name as soon as possible. Maybe he can hear it inside of you and learn it before he even gets here!”

Lan Fan nudged her _ki_ against Ling’s, encouraging him to reach out with his own life force to their son. Ling gently touched the babe’s _ki_ , lovingly and slowly. Within moments, the child began to move wildly again, his _ki_ responding to Ling’s the way a friend might respond to it. He knew his father’s energy trace already, knew he was safe… Now it was really real for the Emperor. His son was _alive_ , and knew _who_ was outside of his mother’s womb.

“I truly feel sorry for Ed right now,” he said quietly. He looked up at Al. “He didn’t get to feel this kind of connection with his children when Winry carried them. And though this is incredible, when it’s your turn, it will be even more amazing, because of the link you and Mei share.” He kissed Lan Fan’s belly again. “I’m so blessed to be this full of joy, despite the circumstances in which we find our nation.”

“Xing is blessed to have an heir who’s so intelligent though he’s not even here yet,” Al commented with a smile. “We are all blessed to share this moment with you.”

“Come feel him, Al,” Ling insisted.

“No offense, but I’m saving the moment for my own baby. It’ll be the first one I get to experience since getting my body back, so I want it to be just as special and meaningful.”

Ling understood. “It’s alright, I think you absolutely should do that.” He sat up and kissed his wife tenderly on the lips. “I’m so happy right now. You made a rough day disappear completely from my mind.”

“Let’s eat, we’re all hungry and this good food isn’t going to eat itself!” She reached for a jug of wine and poured him some. “Dig in everyone!”

After they ate, Ling and Lan Fan enjoyed a bath together in their private rooms, his hand barely leaving her belly all night. When they settled in to sleep, Lan Fan cradled his head against her abdomen as Ling sang nursery rhymes to the baby inside her, his _ki_ stroking both his wife’s and his son’s energies to lull them to sleep.

The next day was cloudy, and therefore blessedly cooler. They lined up once more, this time to quickly put back the things they’d gone through the day before. It didn’t take nearly as long to put it back as it had to take out, and they were on to the second floor before lunch. The upper level was stagnant and hot, dark but no relief from the heat. One by one, crossbows, quivers of arrows, and other weapons made their way down the wide stairs and out the door.

While they ate their lunches, Ling ordered a large door be put into the wall at the end upper chamber, and to prop it open in hopes of getting some air upstairs. By the time they were ready to get back to work, the door was finished as ordered and a strong wind definitely helped to ease the heat and the light problem they were having.

Downstairs, the weaponry was being meticulously sorted and replaced onto the first floor, reserving the second floor for the Drachman grade armor that had been imported by Amestris off the record. And then as Ling came to the back of the lances, he found three of the clan swords.

“Hold on, I’ve got something important here!” he called over his shoulder. Looking more closely, he discovered the first one belonged to the Song clan, an owl in flight on the scabbard. The second bore a forest of pines, meaning it belonged to the Qians. Lastly was the Lai family sword, a geometric shape containing a maple leaf painted on the sheath, and the _tsuba_ in the same geometric form.

“Any luck?” Al asked as he leaned over to get a glance at them.

“No. These are from clans that haven’t participated in the challenge for hundreds of years.” He gently unsheathed the Lai sword, carefully revealing the gleaming blade. As he withdrew it, a piece of paper became visible. Ling took the paper between his fingers delicately, then removed it once he was able to without shredding the parchment.

He unrolled it and read aloud, “‘The Lai clan of Huntan is hereby declared unworthy of the Emperor’s Sacred Challenge after producing four children with extra digits on both hands. Such impurities come from the mother, and shall not be considered for Imperial rule until such time when the Lai family can prove the deformations have not existed in the bloodlines for over four generations. Stamped and sealed on the fourteenth day of the falcon month, year _8964’_ … That was over two hundred and fifty years ago!”

Al nodded. “Certainly more than four generations ago.”

Ling carefully put the parchment back the way it was, then gathered the swords up and gave them to Al. “Take these to Jintao, tell him to put them aside for now, somewhere where they won’t be damaged. Order the servants to bring three wicker chests large enough to hold swords down from the clothing storehouse. Get them to put several layers of cloth inside as well to protect them. We’ll worry about getting them put up after we finish cleaning this all out.” He watched as Al went right away to take care of the task at hand, then moved on to the next stall.

Already, he could see in the very back two jeweled _kashiras_ gleaming under a pile of old blades with leather sheaths. “I need the line to move up a bit, I need these swords cleared out as quickly as possible. If you find one that looks finer than these, hand it to me.”

Four men got right to work, handing the weapons down the line as fast as they could, five more clan swords unearthed from the dust and dirt of the armory. The Fu clan sword was in this batch, the declaration of ineligibility just as he’d been told all his life- the Fu wife had been barren. They unearthed eight swords in the next stall and two in the one after that, and then they found the one Ling had been searching for.

The lapis lazuli stone embedded in the scabbard had been carved into a frog shape, and its eyes had been inlaid with pale red rubies. Wrapped around the blade inside was the declaration of disqualification, citing that the child born to Hong Yi had been a sickly girl that had deformities both inside and out. It said the Hong family would sit out of the Emperor’s Challenge for two generations, with proof that healthy children were born into the bloodlines, with the possibility of a permanent ban should a healthy Hong baby could not be produced in four generations. It was dated approximately twenty-two years ago, around the same time Hong Chen was born.

“Mai-san,” he addressed his father’s Dragon. “Continue on without me, this is a very important piece of our victory, but I need to see Chu Pa-Tuo right away.”

The old man bowed. “It would be my honor, My Lord.”

Ling scurried down the steps, kicked his shoes off and bolted into the palace. He kept running, out the main entrance and down the main staircase. Sprinting now, he made his way toward the city’s business district, where the Imperial records keeper kept his books and files in special fireproof cases. The Emperor burst through the door panting, startling the bearded Chu-san from his ledger. He rose immediately once he realized who stood before him.

“My Lord, it is an honor-”

“I need you to verify the authenticity of something.”

Chu-san blinked. “Of course My Lord, anything for the Emperor.”

Ling showed him the sword. “I had ulterior motives for cleaning out the armory. Look what I found.”

Chu Pa-Tuo pushed his round glasses up his nose and leaned forward. “Oh my…”

“Hong Chen is not a legitimate heir according to the declaration inside this sword. I need you to be able to locate the records in your files so that I can prove to his followers they are on the wrong side, and be damn sure that this declaration isn’t a fake. It’s the only way we’re going to win this war.”

The older man nodded quickly. “I will begin right away, Your Highness. “

He withdrew the paper within the sheath and handed it over, slipping the sword into his sash. “Do not let that document out of your sight. Sleep with it if you must. As soon as you find any correlating documents related to it, I need them immediately. The faster you can accomplish this task for me, the longer your vacation will be,” Ling commented with a grin as he took a moment to wipe his brow.

Chu-san bowed. “Yes, My Lord!”

As Ling walked briskly back to the armory, he couldn’t help but smirk to himself. The brother that ruled the northern half of his country through fear and isolation was about to be ousted for good and his nation reunited and at peace once more. His son would not know the worries of war as soon as he entered the world…

He stopped at the top of the palace stairs and gazed toward Ong-Xu. He looked calm and serene looking out of Shang-Po toward Reikwan’s Pool in the southwest. Ling thought he should make an offering of thanks soon. After all, the God of Gods had seen him through plenty of trials as it was already. If he wanted to keep his support, he should show his gratitude.

“Thank you, Ong-Xu. Thank you for all the blessings in my life, and for the blessings of every Xingese person.” He bowed, his fist pressed tight against his opposite palm, then raced back to the armory, ready to help his soldiers finish the job they’d begun that morning.

* * *

Dr. Knox was no obstetrician, but he knew more about the whole pregnancy process than Dr. Marcoh, simply because he’d been married and had a son of his own. Luckily, Junior Knox _was_ an obstetrician, though getting the royal midwife to let him examine Lan Fan was proving to be extremely difficult.

“Tsia-san, I swear to you that I am trained in my profession and have ministered to many women in my home country!” Junior insisted. “I’ve birthed over one hundred and fifty children back home!”

Shaking her head emphatically, she shoved him away from the door to the Emperor’s rooms. “I don’t care if you’ve birthed over a thousand children back home! It’s not right that a _man_ examine a woman’s most intimate parts!”

“But she’s had some trouble with her previous pregnancy! I simply want to be sure everything is progressing normally! For heaven’s sake- it’s as if you think I’m going to molest her!” There was more bickering back and forth between the two, giving Owen Knox a headache. He clenched his fists and stomped loudly in the hallway.

“That’s enough! Both of you, just stop, damn it!” He jerked his son backward away from the old woman, then turned toward her. “Why don’t we both go and ask the Empress what she would like! Then we won’t have to speculate!”

Tsia seemed to huff with frustration. “Well, at least she’ll have the sense to tell you herself to get lost! And if not, _she_ has the power to make the guards take you fools away!” She spun around and led them into the royal bedchambers, calling out that she had the Amestrian physicians with her and to be sure her body was covered.

The three of them discovered Lady Fan sitting up in her bed, hands on her belly and smiling back at them.

“What’s all the yelling about, Tsia-san?”

The old woman sighed and propped her hands up on her hips. “This young buck says he’d like to examine you and check how the baby is doing, but I told him men weren’t allowed to do such things, yet he keeps insisting he be allowed to, the pervert!”

The Empress furrowed her brows. “Tsia-san, the majority of physicians in Amestris are male. That includes pregnancy attendants. I have no cause to believe that Henry-san would be anything less than professional.”

“But he can’t even read _ki_!” Tsi protested. “How in the hell is a doctor going to know what’s going on with the baby if he can’t read the child’s life energy!”

“Because Lady Fan can read it for me!” Junior shouted. “She knows the baby better than even you! I just need to make sure _she_ is healthy enough to make it to full term!”

Owen got between the two of them before another full blown argument could break out. “My Lady, my son is asking for permission to examine you, just to be sure _you_ are progressing as you should. If he finds anything that is out of the ordinary, he may be able to catch and treat situations as they come up.” He looked at the midwife, whose face was red with anger. “Tsia-san is welcome to stay to ensure you aren’t taken advantage of, since your honor seems to mean more to her than your actual health.”

Lady Fan ordered Tsia to calm herself and open her mind in hopes of learning something new. “I trusted my life to your father some years back, when I lost my arm. I trust both mine and my son’s life to you now.” She flung the covers back. “What do you need me to do, Henry-san?”

He turned toward her excitedly. “Absolutely nothing, My Lady. I’ll position your legs and rump as I need them.” He washed his hands in the basin by the window, drying them and rolling his sleeves up. Owen turned his back to them, out of respect for their privacy as Henry spread her legs.

He could hear his son speaking behind him quietly to the Empress. “I’m going to insert my fingers, now. I’m checking your cervix to be sure your mucus plug is intact and secure.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tsia grumped. “There’s no mucus until the end!”

Henry sighed and said, “Dad, you’re gonna have to get her out of here before I lose it.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you lecher!”

“Tsia-san, I will call the guards if you won’t be quiet and simply observe!” Lady Fan snarled. “Let him do the exam without any further meddling!”

Quiet reigned once more in the royal bedchambers, Henry murmuring his thanks for intervening. He continued with the exam, informing her that while the plug was still holding back her waters, it was slipping out a bit from where it should be.

“That’s not uncommon though with a mother who has delivered before. I don’t see any problem with that, just know that you may start finding snot-like residue in your underclothes or when you go to the latrine.”

He told her to close her legs and cover them, leaving her belly visible while he washed his hands again, and Owen turned back around. When Henry came back to Lady Fan’s bedside, he began to palpate where the baby was inside of her, telling her everything he was doing along the way.

As he pressed down on her right side, he said, “Please let me know if I’m hurting you, My Lady. That is not my intent. I’m checking to be sure the baby has as much fluid surrounding him as he should.” He moved his hands closer to her sternum. “Feel here,” he said, drawing a circle in a particular spot with the end of his finger. “That’s his little bottom!” The Empress smile as she pressed two fingers against her own skin and felt around of her son’s body, and Owen couldn’t help a grin at her awed expression.

As his son continued to push around, Tsia-san stewed off to the side, arms folded and scowling. She hissed little remarks under her breath, but otherwise didn’t interrupt.

“I’m going to measure your belly, now. You don’t have to do anything, My Lady.” He pulled out a measuring tape and asked her to hold the one end firmly on her pubic bone. He stretched the marked strip of fabric up over her belly and took note of where it correlated to some part of her body, then took the tape away.

“He’s very healthy! He’s measuring the same size as a baby who is three weeks further along than he is! That’s a very good sign!” He draped the measuring tape around his neck. “May I put my ear to your stomach and listen to his heart?”

Lan Fan smiled at him brilliantly. “Of course!”

Henry leaned down, placing his ear carefully against the top of her belly, more to the left than the middle. He held up his pocket watch and listened intently for a minute. When he sat up, he told the Empress, “I think your son will be just fine. He’s growing well inside you and there are no problems in the birth canal from your first pregnancy. I think you just need to concentrate on resting as much as you can to get ready for his arrival.”

Tears shone in her dark eyes. “Thank you so much, Henry-san.”

“How does his _ki_ feel?” he asked.

“Joyful,” the young Lady replied, her hands rubbing her belly gently.

“Well, ya can’t ask for anything better than that, right?” Owen remarked.

“Horse cockery,” Tsia grumbled. Owen glared at her.

“You’re what, twenty-eight weeks along now, My Lady? You’re measuring at thirty and a half centimeters, which would be the same as thirty and a half weeks. Any time seven to ten weeks from now, your son will be here.” They watched as she beamed at the ceiling, her flesh hand resting on her forehead.

“Not much longer to go! And healthy too- My blessings are innumerable today!” She asked if the exam was finished, and Junior told her that while he wished he could have done some blood tests, he didn’t have the proper equipment to do that.

“If you start to notice anything strange, come find either me or Tsia-san as soon as possible. Despite our conflicting methods, our desire to see you and your son safely through this pregnancy is the same.” He looked at the old midwife. “Right?”

She bowed toward the Empress. “Of course, My Lady. It is my highest honor to attend to the first Empress of Xing and deliver the Emperor’s son.”

“I want both of you present when he comes,” Lan Fan said as she slowly moved to rise from the bed. “There is much you can learn, Tsia-san, you as well, Henry-san. Together, you will bring the prince into our world.”

She dismissed them all with her thanks, citing that she wanted to take a nap, and the team of physicians bowed and left her in peace.

The Knoxes turned left out of the royal chambers while Tsia stormed off toward the right, cursing and muttering angrily to herself as she went.

Owen placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Don’t pay her any mind, son. She’s an old woman who feels a foreigner is stealing her thunder is all.”

Junior nodded. “I wish she’d see that I want to work _with_ her and not _against_ her. As Lady Fan said, there’s much we could teach each other. No need to be so hostile or jealous.”

“Let’s see if we can find something that resembles a sandwich down in the kitchens. Maybe take some cool sweet tea and enjoy a smoke on the balcony.” He grinned. “Maybe we can con Al into sharing some of that bhang he introduced us to last week.”

Junior laughed at that. “Mom would beat us both over the head if she knew what we’ve been doing in our down time!”

“Luckily, she doesn’t have to know!” Owen declared as he steered his son toward the palace kitchens. “So how good are you at keeping secrets from your mother, Henry? Our lives may very well depend on it!”

* * *

It had taken Chu Pa-Tuo approximately three weeks to find exactly what he was looking for. Ling checked in every day, even offering to help the middle aged man search for the documents he needed. Finally, Chu-san very politely refused, bowing low as he commented that the system was very delicately arranged and that even a minor mistake could cause a grievous error later down the road. In other words, he wanted to be left alone to dig around in the musty shelves in order to preserve… well, _order._

“I see,” Ling said with a grin. “If you need any help at all, whether it be from me or someone else, please don’t hesitate to ask.” The Emperor left Chu-san to deal with the mess on his own, knowing it would take longer than he’d hoped for the right papers to surface, but trusting the man he’d chosen to find them.

Ling was sure that either the document didn’t exist in the records or that Chu Pa-Tuo had been buried alive under the scrolls he’d been searching when one of the guards came escorting the man to the Royal gardens where Ling and Lan Fan were having a cool snack of chilled plums beside the koi pond.

“My Lord!” Chu-san cried out as they approached. “I’ve found the registry! The declaration is the original and I found the copy in the master list!” He carried a book and a scroll with him, and he couldn’t scurry over fast enough.

“That’s wonderful news, Chu-san! Show us what you found!”

The man fell to his knees and opened the book on the grass. He turned to a specific page and ran a finger over a particular line. “This is the registry of every child your father sired, in order of birth. It shows here the entire pregnancy of Hong Yi, that her womb quickened on the twelfth day of the ocean month, and the _ki_ was detected as female. It says she experienced the baby sickness for thirteen weeks, then went into labor approximately a month early. The girl was born in the wee hours of the morning on the thirteenth day of the falcon month, bearing purple splotches all along the right side of her body and a bulging eye. She lived only a few short moments before succumbing to death, and she was taken by Gao Zhai, my predecessor, to her funeral pyre at the edge of the Hong village.” He looked at Ling with excited eyes. “Now here’s where the story gets strange, My Lord. Apparently before he could return to Shang-Po, he was murdered by his wife, as he’d been discovered leaving a brothel in Chao-Shua. He had the princess’ ashes with him, but perhaps his wife thought it was a gift from the woman he’d bedded. The ashes never made it to the capitol.”

Ling gave him a puzzled look. “Then how did the records get noted in the registry in the first place if Gao-san was dead?”

“His assistant went with him, Po Ganta, and he is the one who wrote these details down. He was the one who brought the sword back to Shang-Po, and the plan was for Gao Zhai to return the following day with the royal ashes. Po died under mysterious circumstances a few days later, and apparently the Hong village must’ve thought it a miracle that the babe returned from the dead, and as male.” He unrolled the scroll he’d brought with him, saying, “And this is simply an exact copy of the notice you discovered wrapped around the blade of the Hong sword, signed and stamped as you found it in the armory three weeks ago, My Lord.”

Ling looked at the documents before him and nodded. “Chu-san, I want you to meet with my Dragon. I will have the guard summon him and escort you to his office. Explain to him that I want both of these documents alchemically sealed in some sort of glass container, and get him to make a copy of the page in the ledger for you. I need to be sure we have the originals of both documents until my need for them is over.” He spoke to the guard. “Be sure once you have the copies to pay him the sum of two hundred thousand Paisa and give him two weeks out of his office.”

The records man bowed until his forehead touched the ground. “Thank you so much, My Lord!”

Ling dismissed both him and the soldier and he gazed at Lan Fan. “Our nightmare is almost over. If we can prove he’s illegitimate, the traditional clans will stop backing him and his army will be so small that we can capture him without any problems.”

Lan Fan smiled at him, looking lovelier than any flower or sunrise he’d ever seen in his life. “Our son will be born in a time of peace, and that is all I could ever hope for, qin-ai-de.”

He leaned forward and kissed her lips. “I have important things to attend to, Lady Fan. I must gather our southern families together and present them with the truth, and figure out how to be sure Hong knows the truth about his own heritage…” He pulled at the long beard he kept on his chin, now kept in a thin braid. “The only thing that remains is how to get this information to Minatu without losing one of my soldiers.”

His wife nodded. “Perhaps Al will have a solution. He is very smart about things like this. I am sure he would be happy to help find a solution.”

Ling kissed her again before getting to his feet. “As always, Lady Fan is wise beyond her years. Do you need anything before I go?”

“A hand up?” she asked with a grin. Ling reached down and helped her to stand. It took her a moment to steady herself, and Ling hovered to be sure she was alright. She chuckled and rested her automail hand on her belly. “The prince and I are fine, My Lord. Go and attend to your business.”

“As you command, My Lady,” he said, bowing to her. He turned and strode into the palace, meeting Al and Chu Pa-Tuo in the Dragon’s offices just as his Empress had instructed him.

Al had already encased the documents as requested, and once presented with the puzzle of getting word to Minatu, he surprised Ling with a quick answer. The soldiers from Amestris had brought a motorcycle with them in the back of one of the transports. He suggested letting two of them go together on the thing, one to drive and one to act as a gunner of sorts in case there was trouble.

“The sound alone will attract their attention,” Al commented. “Let them ride close enough for someone to spot them, leave a scroll or notice of some kind there outside the village, then come back. A motorcycle is much faster than a horse, and the strange noise it makes should be enough to deter any provoked attacks.”

Ling moved to look out off the balcony that jutted over the royal pavilion and the grand staircase below. “If you think this is the best decision, then I leave it in your hands. You choose who carries the message, just be sure it gets there safely. I don’t want anyone to get hurt if they can avoid it. As for me, I’m going to send a rider s _outh_ , and gather the people in Tsing-Pei. I plan on informing them of further changes to the country, as well as presenting the evidence of Hong’s illegitimacy. I’m giving the northern rider a three day head start to deliver a satchel of notices to Taigan. The headman there will be sure the remaining northern clans know our news, and some may even come down to our side after finding out about it.”

“I’ll be sure to wait until the northern rider has returned to send the motorcycle then.” Al gave the thick glass sheets to Ling. “Are these protected well enough?”

Ling nodded. “Perfect. Take the rest of the night off. The scribes will be busy up until well after dawn, anyway.” He took the precious records and went to his chambers, planning their next steps.

Three days later, Ling gathered his wife, Hong Yi, Huilang, the scarred Ishvalan warrior monk and Col. Miles. They journeyed in the royal wheelhouse to Tsing-Pei, where the Emperor addressed his people and the Empress acted as translator to their foreign guests.

The most important thing he did first. He presented the documents naming the Hong child as dead, female, and that the Hong family had been ousted from the pool of clans able to participate in the Emperor’s Challenge due to numerous birth defects that led to the princess’ death.

Hong Yi confessed, weeping, that the child she’d carried inside her had definitely been female from the time she could sense the baby’s _ki_. She told the crowds assembled before her that her pregnancy had been riddled with problems from the beginning, and that the ending was the worst possible thing she’d ever endured.

She spoke of a baby girl who was deformed and disfigured, a large red birthmark covering nearly half her body, her eyes bulging and her tongue black and hanging from her pale blue lips… Yi-san said her Lord had come in the night with the priestess, that he gave her another baby, a boy, to raise as Prince Chen. The villagers thought it was a miracle, and when Chu Pa-Tuo took over the records office, he was none the wiser about the switch. The sword had already been stored, the records filed and put away, and with both his predecessors mysteriously dying, he never thought to look at the recent records being too busy filing death certificates his first week in office.

As for Huilang, Ling still needed her, and Yi-san agreed before they left Shang-Po not to name her as Chen’s mother. She told the people that she didn’t know who the child’s birth mother was, and when Huilang addressed them at Yi-san’s side, she said she didn’t know who the boy’s mother was either, simply that the Emperor had summoned her to take care of the child until they arrived at the Hong village. While the people were confused, as someone shouted from the back of the crowd, it made no difference who his mother was, only that Hong Chen had absolutely no right to the throne, and that the people of Xing should march on his army and take his head.

Ling assured the shouting masses that the villain would be dealt with appropriately, that there was no need for anyone to bloody their hands when he had palace guards who were waiting in line to be the one to do it themselves. Instead, he turned the angry voices into joyful ones.

He declared the Temple of Ong-Xu open to the public- even more unprecedented than naming himself the head of a dynasty. He announced the establishment of schools for every village, and appointing two of the former concubines to each school house. The Emperor’s Phoenixes were advised to meet with their clan’s headmen and begin drafting a list of concerns for the Emperor, that as soon as Hong and his men were caught, that they would be returning to their homes.

“Hong Chen will not be terrorizing Xing for much longer,” Ling assured his countrymen. “We will release the northern clans from their chains and bring peace to our nation once more, this I promise.”

The people believed him. They praised his name. They shouted prayers for a swift victory and a safe delivery for the Empress. Then they began to trickle off once they noticed the royal party gathering up to leave once more.

“Amestris could learn a thing or two from you, My Lord,” Col. Miles said quietly as the others dozed around them. “Your honesty and devotion to your people is refreshing after the deception Amestris has had to deal with in recent years.”

“Believe me,” Ling commented, “before my reign, it was much the same here in Xing. But I couldn’t allow the pile of lies and secrets to grow any higher. My only secret has been that of my enemy’s true parentage, and that’s something I’ll divulge eventually, when the wound is not so fresh.”

It was late when they returned to the Peony Palace, yet they were greeted by Alphonse anyway, who stood in very casual clothing and woven sandals in the stables with his ancient half brother.

Ling advised his guests to seek out his Dragon should they need anything tomorrow, then turned to Hoi-sama and asked if he would kindly spend the day helping him come up with a curriculum for the imperial school system. Once everyone understood the plans for the next day, Ling offered his arm to Lady Fan, escorting her up to their bedchambers, where he wrapped her up in his arms and held her and their son close to him as sleep eluded him.

* * *

The dark skinned Khumri shadow warriors filled in the barracks that had emptied out around Nui, and Nui was moved into Minatu’s Imperial house with Fei and Chou-Sueng- the last of the original Captains. Fei was visibly unimpressed with this, though Chou-Sueng seemed not to mind in the least. Nui began to second guess if he should get rid of the artillery officer or not, but one thing was certain: Fei had to be taken care of.

Living with the three of them was proving useful, however. He was learning their weaknesses and strengths, both as fighters and ordinary men. Fei was an adamant non-drinker. He felt it clouded the mind and impaired the body too badly to be of any use, despite Hong’s constant nagging that he should just relax and have a drink once in a while. Chou-Sueng was a bit of a pervert, despite being generally kind and willing to be less serious in their downtime.

As for Hong himself, Nui believed he was slowly losing his mind. While the Fu assassin often fantasized about slitting the monster’s neck in his sleep, insanity was proving to be a crueler fate than any he could inflict apart from slow torture (and that had crossed his mind a time or two as well). The man would constantly talk about his mother/wife, how he felt so completely lost without her, how he longed to see the child he thought he’d planted in her belly, then cry his eyes out because his younger half brother had ripped his future away from him with an unknown secret that no one got to see but the Emperor (Nui wan’t about to tell him he’d witnessed the young Emperor’s skull caving in from blunt force trauma, only to knit itself back together with a strange red lightning).

The shadow warriors kept mostly to themselves, training endlessly, silently, and almost completely undetectable to Nui. He was skilled at reading hidden _ki_ , but it was damn near impossible for him to keep up with all of them when they were in stealth mode. He’d have to ask them how they did it, maybe teach it to his clansmen when he finally returned home.

Home… Where were the Fus, Changs and Yaos even living these days? He knew the clans had all been moved south of Shang-Po, they’d gotten wind of that a long while ago. Some of the northern clans had even managed to sneak across the Shunsui River into the south, leaving the majority of the population to crowd into the southern cities and the northern part of the country deserted. Mostly he worried for his family- his son Bei, his step daughter Nishi, and his dear wife Niao. Ruya and Chao, the empress’ parents and Nui’s sister and brother-in-law, were finely trained assassins themselves, and he didn’t worry for them much. But his immediate family, Niao and Nishi in particular, were not lifelong trained warriors. And though Bei had been trained since he was quite young to fight and read _ki_ , he was only thirteen.

Most of the time, it was easy to stay focused and not think about his loved ones (or the baby he continually met in his dreams), but lately there was less and less to do in regards to training, and one’s mind begins to wander after harvesting vegetables all day. Now whenever those thoughts came up in the fields, Nui tried to refocus himself on thinking of a way to get rid of Fei without getting killed himself, as well as how to eliminate Chou-Sueng, or whether he should keep him…

And while out yanking radishes from the dirt one warm September afternoon, the gods saw fit to relieve him of one half of his burden.

Everyone was out in the fields, at least what remained of the Xingese part of Hong’s army. Most of them had been in the daikon field, pulling up the immature radishes simply to have some kind of vegetable to eat. Parasites had gotten into the bok choy plots and the fruit trees, and without the radishes, their diets would be out of balance. Chou-Sueng had apparently gotten hold of a big one, and in trying to pull it out, he said he’d strained a muscle in his chest. But he hadn’t strained his pectoral muscles, he’d strained his _heart_. He died next to the root he’d pulled from the earth. Hong ordered a pyre built immediately, and before nightfall, the artillery captain was burning brightly.

One down, one to go.

And then he would finally get his revenge.

He smelled rain on the horizon. The fall rains would be on their way soon. The son he never got to meet had prophesized that when the banks of the river marking the border between the north and the south flooded, he would see Niao again. Nui had to think of some way to get rid of Fei quickly. Perhaps his boy would tell him?

He fell asleep quickly that night, with the scent of Chou-Sueng’s burning corpse in his nose.


	9. CHAPTER SEVEN

It had taken Tim Marcoh a bit to figure out just precisely how to come up with an ethical way to experiment with DNA manipulation that didn’t involve actually changing a living creature. He settled for drawing blood and isolating the strands that way, going on to use different alchemy arrays to merge the genes of two different species and watching the reactions under a microscope. Using the research Dr. Shou Tucker kept on the creation of his own chimaeras, Dr. Marcoh was analyzing his results side by side and finding out a lot that hadn’t been published in Tucker’s reports.

For example, when the DNA of two different species came together, the best traits of each species came through, which explained partially why Zampano and Jerso were able to retain the sharpness of their minds while attaining the strength and shape of their animal counterparts. In the case of the Emperor’s hostler from the stables, though he was slow, he was still able to be trained to handle animals properly and even read and write to some degree, yet as evidenced by the Fu clan assassins, his strength and speed were definitely more than what a man his size should have been able to muster. Tim wished he could have had some samples of that man’s blood to see it as reference.

And as for Mei, he couldn’t be happier with her progress as a budding scientist. She studied the results right alongside him, making hypotheses of her own and writing down the actual results of different experiments, compiling the data into neatly organized sections as they went, and making notes of the things Hoi-sama did when they created chimaeras made of mice and rabbits.

They learned from the Golden Dragon’s half-brother that if you wanted a person to keep their human appearance, you would place the creature being absorbed into a person on the array, then activate the transmutation circle and touch the person to direct the energy into the body and fuse the genetic codes together. If you wanted to keep the creature’s appearance, it was the opposite- place the human on the transmutation circle and touch the animal after activation. Hoi-sama suspected whoever created Jerso and Zampano, as well as their friends Heinkel and Darius, placed both on the circle, as they could shift forms whenever they wanted, and because the human brain is smarter than that of a warthog or a toad, that consciousness held the control over the shape shifting. However, all of their research hadn’t yet led to a discovery on how to separate the two infused bodies.

Tim was sure they were getting close to something though, because by accident they discovered how to turn dormant parts of a person’s DNA on and off.

Marcoh had created medical slides to view his blood samples on that had an etching of the arrays he was using, making it easy to simply touch the glass plates and activate them to view the reaction in the microscope. He thought he had grabbed the one they’d been using to observe the reordering of cells upon merging, but when he activated the array, at first glance it appeared nothing had happened.

“What in the world?” he murmured to himself, touching the slide again, being sure he made contact with the array. Again, it looked as if nothing happened. He extracted the blood sample into a syringe, then looked at the array.

There was a mistake in it. Instead of bearing the symbol for calcination, it bore the symbol for filtration. And that one mistake led to an amazing discovery.

For the next two days, Marcoh concentrated on analyzing the accidental transmutation under the microscope, drawing cell structures and observing movement within the cells, finally running it through the ultra powerful DNA microscope they’d gotten from a travelling merchant who didn’t know what he had. That little mistake had led to one of the biggest breakthroughs so far in their research. He went right away to Alphonse with the news.

“We haven’t figured out how to separate the chimaeras yet, but we’re very close. Take a look at these findings,” he said as he passed a notebook to him.

Al flipped through the pages, taking time to examine the arrays. “You know this one’s not right, don’t you?”

Tim nodded. “Of course! Well, at the time I didn’t, but that’s the thing- we’ve learned how to _turn off_ parts of the genetic code! By using this incorrect circle, we were able to turn off all of the rat’s DNA within the rabbit chimaera we have in the lab. Even though the rat’s DNA is still infused with the rabbit, they are dormant and no longer active in its body!” He came around to Al’s side and flipped forward a few pages in the research notes.

“And that’s not all! We figured out how to unlock dormant parts of the DNA as well! For example, we know rabbits can’t sense _ki_ , and we know that not all humans can sense it either. So I took a sample I had of Zampano’s blood, and using Mei’s as reference, I was able to isolate the particular gene that would control the ability to sense the energy around us.” He paused, smiling at the young man who’d grown up so much since he first met him in that suit of armor. “Al, we can use alchemy to manipulate DNA in order to prevent and maybe reverse genetic mutations, prevent genetic diseases, reduce risks for cancer and other hereditary conditions, turn off the chimaera aspects of any living creature… This is just as huge as figuring out how to split the chimaeras apart from each other.”

Al smiled at him. “And all because you flipped one symbol upside down.” He clapped Tim on the shoulder, praising his work since coming to Xing. “You know, the Xingese say, ‘Success in the end erases all mistakes’. You’ve done excellent work, Dr. Marcoh. I think it’s safe to say you’re going to be famous for this.”

Tim felt his face heating up. “Well, you may be right about that, but it certainly wasn’t the reason I worked so hard on this. And I’ve still got a lot of work to do with the data I’ve collected, but I think even if we can’t figure out how to remove the animal DNA from the chimaera equation, we’re really onto something with this ability to manipulate human beings on a molecular level- and of course we must guard this information with our lives. We definitely don’t want someone like Shou Tucker finding this information and using it the wrong way before we’ve worked out all the kinks.”

“Agreed,” Al said nodding. “I think we should see if Jerso and Zampano would like to find out if you can turn off the chimaera aspects of themselves, as well as turn on turn their _ki_ sensing abilities.   I’m sure it would only make them better soldiers to do so.”

“I’ll go and find them right away-”

“No, I’ll get them. You go take a break and enjoy your success for a moment. I bet Owen and Junior Knox would love to share some of the peach wine as you explain to them your findings. They’re both down in the garden going over the soldiers’ recent physicals and could probably use a break, too. I’ll get Mingxia to bring some sandwiches down to you.”

Tim agreed to meet his colleagues in the royal garden, feeling as if he were walking on air down to the lush space behind the Peony Palace

“This is the happiest accident I’ve ever had,” he said to himself as he joined his friends.

* * *

Hong Chen was a man with nothing left to lose. His beloved Yi was long gone- dead or alive he didn’t know. His throne was occupied by his younger brother, and those who had sided with him in the war that divided Xing were now flocking to Emperor Ling’s side after the changes he’d been making were starting to actually make a difference. Almost half of his army had been decimated in the siege of Shang-Po, hundreds more committing suicide afterward, and the loss of Chou-Sueng had been a sudden surprise that alerted him to the health and well being of the men under his command. His horses were growing thinner from lack of food. His pillaged city that he claimed as his capitol was falling apart at the seams. Hong’s world was crashing down around him, pieces at a time.

What he wanted more than anything was to find Yi and go across the border to Ganya, raise their children and never look back. Mai Renchen was right- he’d spent too much time fucking around in that palace and not enough time putting all his lessons to work. Though he did well in his battle strategy lessons, it was a lot harder than he thought, gathering and maintaining a rebel army in a stolen horse village.

And his brother, despite Hong’s own actions, had been more than patient and lenient with him, trying to be nice and give him the chance to redeem himself, and he’d refused to save face. Now there was an enormous bounty on his head and the orders had changed from capture alive to kill on sight. His heart wasn’t in this game of cat and mouse anymore, and Hong Chen wanted nothing more than for his mother to return.

He had dreams about her, bleeding from everywhere and carrying a child hung in a noose made from its own birthing cord. She cursed him and called him a failure, a worthless bastard who only promised lies and deception- a monster of the worst kind. He always awoke sobbing when those dreams came. And no one came to comfort him afterward.

But he decided he wasn’t going to sit in his stolen home and mope about it. He was going to organize what was left of the army, redo the divisions and come up with the formations on the final showdown at the capitol gates. With the shadow warriors from Khumri among his ranks, they were sure to win. Their skin was as black as night itself, and according to Nui, their seemingly absent _ki_ made them as undetectable as leopards in the jungle.

Chen knew one thing was for certain about the upcoming battle at the capitol: he was either going to be Emperor of Xing or he was going to die. There was no mistake that there would be no speeches or pardons, no arrests or captures… He and his men would be put to death if they didn’t succeed, yet he couldn’t find it in him to be scared about that anymore. With Yi gone and his world deteriorating around him, death almost seemed like a welcomed break after a long, hard year, and he could at least admit to himself that if dying meant he could see her, or even Tao again, death was becoming more and more attractive to him.

He took a gulp of the potato liquor one of his men made and brought to him. The formations weren’t going to draw themselves. He picked up his brush and dipped it into the ink welled up on the ink stone and began to draw out the plans for the final siege. The whispers of fallen friends and lovers breezed through his mind as he drew, giving both encouragement and warning.

“Shush, I can’t think,” he said out loud. The voices quieted some, and he got back to work, not stopping until dawn. Just after the sun rose, the gray skies that had hidden the sun for over a week slowly began to open. The autumn rains had arrived right on time- and just in time to hide his army as they made one last run for the throne at the Peony Palace.

When Hong slept, it was dreamless.

* * *

Rain cascaded from the tiled roof of the palace, gathered in a filtration system used to fill a primitive form of running water in the palace itself, making it easy to fill tubs and wash basins for everything from washing dishes to letting Lan Fan soak in a deep tub. Ling was by her side most of the time now, helping her with everything from sitting, standing, walking and anything in between she needed him to do. Often, he would rub her feet and back as she rested. In a few weeks, she would be giving birth and he was doing all he could to make her as comfortable as possible.

As they soaked in the tub, he held her in his lap and rubbed at her shoulders. “Can I get you anything for the pain?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hurting that much, at least not since I can finally breathe again.” Her body was changing now that she was late in her pregnancy. Her belly had dropped down quite a bit and both Tsia and Junior Knox assured them this was normal, that it only meant it wouldn’t be much longer before the prince arrived.

“I know your port hurts when it rains, Lan-chan. Remember, there are no awards for withstanding pain.”

She smiled, her metal hand patting his leg as he began to rub her neck. “Truly, I’m fine. We both are, right Ah-Zixin?”

Naming their son hadn’t been difficult. They’d asked their loved ones to make a list of suggestions for the prince’s name, and Zixin was the only name to show up on all eight lists they received. And while he was moving less and less inside his mother, his _ki_ was growing stronger and more curious. His sentience was something amazing to Ling, who hadn’t paid much attention when his mother was pregnant with Keiji. His son was alive, was smart already, and could already demonstrate some emotions, such as calm, happy, and frustrated.

“I wonder what he’ll look like,” Ling mused.

“Beautiful,” Lan Fan sighed. “He’ll be perfect.”

He smiled at her. “You’re absolutely right.” He moved from massaging her lower back to simply holding her close to him. “Are you going to take the pain medicine Junior brought to ease your labor?”

She laid her head back, resting it against his chest. “If it gets unbearable, yes. But I’d like to go as long as I can without it.”

He kissed her cheek. “Whatever you want, I’ll be there every second of the way. I’ll get you anything you need, just let me know.”

“I’m sad that it’s almost over, but I am excited to meet our son.” She looked up at him. “I already want to have another. For the most part, I enjoy being with child.”

Ling squeezed her, kissing her tenderly on the lips. “Carrying my children… it’s the greatest honor anyone has ever done for me. I’ll give you as many as you want, for as long as I can, you have my word.” He sighed into her hair. “I owe you everything I have, Lan-chan. You saved my life over and over again, taught me lessons no tutor could teach me, snagged the philosopher’s stone for me to secure my throne, and now you’re telling me you want to give me as many children as I can stand. I love you so much…”

“Qin-ai-de…” Lan Fan groaned softly, and the sound of her voice ignited a flame of desire in his belly.

He chuckled behind her. “I don’t mind practicing for the next pregnancy if you feel up to it.”

“No… It hurts…” she hissed, her hands on both sides of her swollen stomach.

Immediately Ling was reaching out with his _ki_ to both his wife and his unborn son. His son was calm, yet curious, and Lan Fan was panicking under her cool exterior. “Is it time?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Wait with me until the pain passes.”

He held her gently, unsure of what to do next or who to call for help. After what seemed like an eternity, her posture eased up and she laid back against his chest again, panting for breath.

“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously.

Lan Fan nodded, asking him to give her a moment to collect her breath again. Once she was able to speak, she said, “I think we should get out of the tub now, just in case.”

“What’s going on?” he asked as she made room for him to stand and get out.

“Tsia-san and Henry-san both said the closer I get to delivery that I’ll have false contractions. He said we have to time them to see if they’re real or fake.”

Ling helped her from the tub and wrapped her in a towel before hefting her to his chest and carrying her out of the bathroom and putting her on their bed. He grabbed the mantle clock sitting on his desk and rushed back to her side. “That took, what, about two minutes to get in here?” He panicked, looking at the clock face. “How long are the pauses supposed to be?”

Lan Fan flexed her _ki_ against his, calming and soothing him back down from his agitated state. “Shh, come sit next to me.” He did as she asked, and she guided him to snuggle into her shoulder as she held him. “Henry-san said real ones will come regularly, every five minutes or so and get closer together until my waters start flowing. False ones come and go with no pattern. So far there’s only been one, don’t get so upset.”

He took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“Shh… Want to see if my milk’s come yet? Tsia-san said that’s a sure sign of impending birth, if milk is present.”

Ling’s cheeks heated. “It feels lewd to me…”

“Maybe it would be calming for _me_. Please?”

He kissed her throat, then moved toward her breast. Moving the towel he’d wrapped her in aside, he took her nipple into his mouth, suckling as Knox-san had told him would draw milk from her. The old doctor had told him it was something special he and his own wife shared after Junior’s birth.

Ling wasn’t sure if it was a relief or not when after suckling from each breast for over ten minutes nothing came out. But when Lan Fan asked him to make love to her since it appeared the pains weren’t coming back, he did give a silent prayer of thanks to the gods before guiding his lovely wife to her hands and knees in their bed.

* * *

There’d only been a short day’s break in between the endless rain that began the first week of September, and that had been over two weeks ago. Nui wasn’t complaining though. It washed the smell of blood away from the slaughter of the horses that had been going on since the rain began.

Hong had ordered that only the horses needed to draw new ammunition carts be spared from the culling of Minatu. He’d told them they would not be returning once they started on their march to Shang-Po, that they would either be successful or die there. The rest of the horses were being butchered for meat to eat along the way. There would be no break-neck pace charging toward the palace. Instead, there would be a slow calculated approach, the shadow warriors going in first to assassinate the guards at the gates, then open them and let everyone in to ransack the city.

Nui couldn’t stop the shadow warriors, but he could stop Hong. He hoped to murder him before ever getting within sight of the palace walls, and Fei before that if all went as planned. And as for the meat- he would hunt down squirrels and frogs before he ate a horse he ‘d ridden.

Hong was becoming quieter and quieter, more morose and moody as the days went by, and seemingly speaking to no one at times. Often, he awoke from nightmares crying, but Nui would simply roll over and let him cry himself back to sleep. Every pain he’d inflicted along the way was coming back twice fold now. Nui thought the man seemed to realize this as well. He felt no remorse for him, and he couldn’t wait to kill him and get it over with.

To be honest, the urge to do it now was getting insatiable. But Nui’s thoughts were that if he waited until he was closer to the palace, the chances of him escaping with his life were far greater. As it stood, his traveling companions would defend him to the death. He wouldn’t find them to be so loyal if he killed their leader before having any place to run to. Still, his blade cried out to drink the man’s blood, and Nui was having a difficult time ignoring its pleas to be quenched.

The day before the march was set to begin, Fei was gathering his things from the home they were using as a makeshift palace and command center. He paused in front of Nui, who was sharpening his kunai and putting them away on his thigh holster.

“I have never liked you,” the white headed man said to him. He crossed his thick arms over his broad chest and frowned at him. “When we take the palace, I hope I am stationed on the opposite end of Xing as you.”

Nui never looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m just doing my best to help Hong-sama get the throne, same as you.”

“I can see right through you. I’d have killed you a long time ago if it weren’t for your ability to train our assassins.”

Nui stopped with his whetstone and gazed up at Fei. “And I’d have killed you a long time ago if your head wasn’t so far up Hong-sama’s ass that I’d risk killing him, too.”

“You’re still loyal to that Yao brat and his whore, aren’t you?” Fei said, uncrossing his arms and reaching for his sword. “Let’s see how your fucking little darts do against a real blade!” Just as he drew the weapon and moved to swing it, Hong appeared in the doorway.

“Stop it!” he roared. He stormed into the room and jerked Fei’s sword from his hand, then kicked Nui’s hand and forced the kunai clattering to the floor. “We need our anger and our strength to fight the Emperor’s soldiers! We can’t afford to waste our resources killing each other!”

“Nui is a traitor, My Lord!” Fei shouted back. “He’s going to betray us!”

“Don’t you think he would’ve done it already?” Hong cried. “We’ve been to the palace once, Fei! If he were going to do it, don’t you think it would’ve happened already? Stop with your foolishness and focus on the mission ahead!”

Fei stomped over to Hong, still yelling. “I refuse to fight alongside him! I think he’s the one who was responsible for all the strange deaths and the disappearance of the women! He’s been orchestrating this the whole time! Please open your eyes, Hong-sama!”

“Enough!” Hong screamed, holding his head with one hand and pointing the sword right at Fei’s chest. “One more word and you won’t go with us at all!”

Quiet reigned in the small room at last, and Hong lowered the snatched weapon. “If you won’t fight alongside him, then fight by _my_ side. We are all working toward the same goal. We can’t accomplish any of them if we’re divided. Once this is over, if you want to beat each other to the death, be my guest. But for now, put your differences aside, for the sake of my rule.”

Fei crossed his arms again, muttering what a joke it was that Nui was even allowed in their army. At last, he reluctantly swore he would wait until after the battle to settle their score between them.

“And you Nui? Do you agree to hold off on your fight?”

Nui nodded. “I have no reason to fight Fei-san, My Lord. He doesn’t trust me, though I’ve been honest with all of you from the beginning. I don’t know why he hates me, My Lord.”

Hong tossed the sword back to Fei. “Perhaps you’d find it easier to relax if you weren’t around each other. Fei, I want you bed down in the barracks tonight.”

His eyes widened. “I can’t do that! What if he tries to kill you in the night!?”

Nui rolled his eyes but otherwise kept his mouth shut.

“He’s not going to do that, as I said- he’s had plenty of opportunity to do it already and hasn’t.” Thunder clapped overhead and Hong looked out toward the front of the house, where the rain was coming down in buckets. “Better go before it begins to rain harder.”

Suddenly Nui had an idea. “My Lord? If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to go instead. I’ve felt funny about staying here in the house ever since I arrived. The barracks is where I’m most comfortable anyway, and it will let Fei continue to guard you, so I’ll go to the barracks.”

Hong nodded. “See Fei? You’re a paranoid shit!” He stood by the door making sure Fei left him alone to gather all of his things before moving into the barracks. Once he was all packed p and covered in his poncho, Hong clapped him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good man, Nui. My army is better because you’re a part of it.”

Nui watched him rub at his temple a moment before asking, “Are you alright, My Lord?”

“He’s fine,” Hong said, then immediately cleared his throat. “I mean, _I’m_ fine. We should go for a swim sometime!”

Nui furrowed his brows. Hong was definitely not fine, that much was for sure. And secondly, Fei was going to be a real problem if he didn’t do something about him really soon. “I’ll be in the second barracks if you need me, My Lord.” Hong nodded at him, giving him a strange smile that didn’t suit his face.

Nui exited the house into the downpour and sloshed through puddles to get to the barracks where the shadow warriors were staying. Inside, he found nearly onyx colored men having a kind of prayer chant as they passed around different weapons in a circle. He couldn’t understand them at all, but the reverence in the way they touched the weapons was a universal language for an assassin like himself. He sat down on one of the cots and watched quietly, observing how the whole group of them held up the weapons to the sky, their eyes closed but their heads facing the heavens as well, saying their mysterious words. When it was over, one of the men came over to him.

“It is good to see you, Nui. What can we do for you on this rainy night?”

Nui shook his head, “Nothing, I wanted to spend one more night in my old bed before we left tomorrow. What were you doing just then?”

The man smiled. “We asked the gods to guide our weapons to worthy targets and to spare the lives of those who do not deserve death. Do you do something like that where you are from as well?”

“No, but I like your way of thinking. Too many times in war, lives are lost needlessly. It’s a good prayer you have.”

“Maybe I can teach it to you sometime,” the man said with his thick accent. “But now is the time for sleeping, yes?”

“Yes, we have a long journey ahead of us. And I wanted to tell you, Hong-sama asked me to send you on to Shang-Po ahead of us, to hide our numbers a little better.” Nui wasn’t sure if the shadow warriors could sense untruth in a _ki_ signature, but he was hoping that they couldn’t.

The man blinked. “He did?”

“He’s been ill lately, probably nervous about taking the palace at last. But he wanted me to remind you the city layout is confusing. You’ll see a golden statue that marks the location of the palace itself. The giant castle at the opposite end of the city is where the religious officials live and keep their records at. You won’t find the Emperor there. He’ll be in the smaller home by that statue. It’s a decoy, the real palace is underground.”

The shadow warrior nodded. “Very clever. Then we will leave before sunrise and go on ahead. We will meet you in three days with open gates, my friend.” He rose and made his way back to the other Khumrians. “Don’t forget to ask the gods to guide your hands during the battle, Nui.”

Nui grinned. “I won’t.”

Nui was so tired of pulling strings constantly. He looked forward to reuniting with Niao and simply doing nothing for about a month. But before he laid down to rest, he tugged all his weapons out and laid them on his bed.

“Gan-Yi, I ask you to look into my heart and the hearts of my enemies, guide my hands to serve justice to those who deserve it and to spare those who do not, and give me the patience to let you work your will through me.” Satisfied with his prayer to the Fu clan’s god, he sheathed his blades and placed them nearby to get some sleep.

When he awoke in the morning, the shadow warriors were all gone and the rain was a drizzle compared to the storm the night before. Today was the day he would begin his journey home. He couldn’t wait to get started.

* * *

Sweat trickled down Hoi-sama’s back. “How many more are there?” he asked.

His thi-thi shook his head. “Try not to think about the number, ko-ko. Just continue until there’s no more.”

“Alright, but I’ve got to take this robe off at least…” He whipped his heavy zhiju off and tossed it into the corner, revealing a sleeveless white cotton undershirt and knee length pants. They were in the barracks, he, his little half-brother, and Marcoh-san transmutating the DNA code of every Xingese soldier to activate their _ki_ sensing powers within them. It took a bit more effort than simply activating the circle on which the men stood- one had to concentrate to a particular element of the body, something built into the nucleus of a human being’s core. It was this extra effort that was causing the old alchemist to feel as if he were on fire within his clothing.

Mei shouted toward them, “I can see the end of the lines, almost done guys!”

“Praise the gods!” Hoi-sama rejoiced.

She approached them, three servants in tow bearing fans. “Jerso and Zampano will be last, and Dr. Marcoh and I will take care of them. Not much longer, Hoi-sama!”

His thi-thi’s woman was right. Within the hour, every single Xingese soldier had the ability to sense _ki_ \- and what was even more remarkable was the degree to which they could sense it. It didn’t matter how many magnets and lead sheets the Chang princess gathered into her pockets or how tightly she reigned her energy in, every single one of them could sense it. Granted, it was at a lesser intensity, and it could be that perhaps it was the newness of the sensation that was causing them to be so attuned to the new feeling. In any case, she was unable to deceive them, no matter how hard she tried.

And though Hoi himself had made plenty of chimaeras in his day, he hadn’t been much help as far as splitting them apart. But that all changed the day before, when Alphonse made a suggestion based on his own out of body experience.

“Maybe if there was a vessel to extract the animal’s soul into. For instance, if you have a rat fused with a human, you would need to pull the rat out and fuse it with another living rat. It would cancel out because rat plus rat equals rat, see?”

They did an experiment to find out if that would work, fusing a rat with a rabbit. When Dr. Marcoh examined the DNA, they were spliced completely, the best traits showing up in the physical form of a rabbit, thought it was switching pretty often into rat form, as the rat was proving to have the stronger consciousness. When they pulled the two souls apart, they deposited the rat’s essence back into the rat’s body, and it came to life quickly and began acting as normal. The rabbit seemed completely unaffected by the whole process, and when Dr. Marcoh examined it, the DNA was back to normal, as well as in the rat.

Now they had Jerso and Zampano before them, a squealing warthog in a cage nearby, one slated for dinner that night, and a toad from the royal garden in a glass jar. It would be the first time that anyone had attempted to pull the combined DNA of a human and an animal apart. There was a young man with dark hair and glasses that came with the Amestrian convoy across the desert who was taking pictures of the whole ordeal, and Hoi sat back and watched with a ladle of cool water.

Jerso went first, lying down on his back on the transmutation circle, as Dr. Marcoh wasn’t certain how he would feel afterward. The jar with the toad was opened and placed beside the array, and then Dr. Marcoh touched the chalk lines.

A strange red lightning erupted and Jerso gasped. Dr. Marcoh grit his teeth as he closed his eyes, then carefully touched the toad with both hands, the lightning transferring from around Jerso’s body to the amphibian nearby. It took about thirty seconds, but when it was finished, Mei and Al pulled Jerso to sit up.

“How do you feel?” Mei asked carefully, patting the man’s shoulder as he caught his breath.

He held his breath and flexed, then a look of wonder crossed his face. “I can’t do the frog thing anymore! I can’t transform my body anymore!” He turned to look up at Zampano. “I’m a normal human again!”

“Really?” his friend exclaimed, kneeling beside him. “You can’t change your form at all? No craving for bugs?”

Jerso began to cry, which made Zampano grab him in a bear hug and pound on his back. “I’m so happy for you,” he said, his voice cracking as well with emotion.

“You’ve made history here today, Dr. Marcoh,” the dark headed man with the camera said. “Congratulations!”

Dr. Marcoh, always humble and gentle, replied with his thanks. “I couldn’t have done it without Mei’s help, or Hoi-sama’s. And there’s still so much work to be done! We’ll need to study long term affects, what bearing it has on reproduction, if any lingering traces of animal DNA will be passed down to the next generation- This is just the beginning, Ofc. Fuery!”

Al brought Jerso over to his array and activated his _ki_ gene, then they both watched as Zampano laid down on the reverse chimaera circle. Removing the warthog genes took two attempts, but finally Dr. Marcoh was able to detect it had been all removed, and when the Amestrian sat up on the floor, the Emperor’s most trusted servant entered the room.

Her eyes were shining brightly. “If you wouldn’t mind, Dragon-sama, would it be alright if only you and I were present during the _ki_ part of this process? I’d like to be one of the first energies Fred-san feels when his senses are awakened.”

Mei smiled at her. “Of course, Mingxia! We’d be delighted to give you some privacy, wouldn’t we?” she asked the rest of them.

Jerso seemed confused, and then it dawned on him. He turned to his friend. “You are going to love being able to sense this _ki_ stuff. We’ll be outside, man!”

The room emptied and the doors were closed behind them, Mei leading them all toward the stables, where the side entrance to the palace stood. Once they were out of earshot, Jerso asked quietly, “So is Mingxia pregnant? Is that why it felt like her _ki_ was kind of doubled up a little? Like an echo?”

Hoi-sama nodded. “She’s been waiting for this day so he could sense it for himself, not mentioning it to anyone and telling anyone who noticed to not say anything. She’s only known for about a week.”

Fuery paused his picture taking, commenting, “Maybe I should do it too- have that gene switched on, I mean.”

Mei sighed. “I can’t wait to experience that with Al. It’s going to be so amazing…”

Suddenly there came a whoop from behind them, the doors on the barracks bursting open and Zampano running toward them. “Did you guys feel that!? I’m gonna be a father!” He picked Mingxia up and twirled her around, took her hand and raced past them.

“We’re gonna get permission from the Emperor to get married!”

Al caught up to them and all six watched as Zampano told everyone about the baby. When they disappeared from sight, Al suggested, “Let’s have some of that peach wine to celebrate. We’ve made history for the science and alchemical community, as well as experienced the joy of our friend. Any objections?”

When there were none, they all went together to find the Fu clan’s special vintage wine.

* * *

The first night of travelling by foot in the rain was awful. Their leather boots were soaked, the road was in horrible condition, and the temperatures were getting colder. Blisters and general exhaustion were the biggest complaints among the men as they traveled. They stopped to rest at abandoned farms with huge barns to get a brief break from the rain, but their biggest troubles had yet to come.

Their ammunition wagons, though properly caulked and sealed on the bottom and heavily covered up top, were beginning to get wet. If too many of the rounds got wet, they’d all be firing duds at the palace, which was just fine with Nui, but was causing Fei and some of the others to lash out in a panic.

Add to that the washed out bridge over the Shunsui River and you had all the elements for disaster.

“We’re never going to make it, Hong-sama!” Fei cried exasperatedly. “If we cross that river with it raining this hard, the munitions will get even more soaked! And anyone else who tries to get across will surely drown! I think we should go back and wait two more weeks!”

Hong roared into his captain’s face, “I’m telling you we are going to make it across! The shadow warriors are already nearly there and will be murdering the guards at the gates soon! I’m not going to leave them there for two weeks wondering where in the hell we are!” He cursed into the downpour around them. “It’s just a little fucking water! We get our strongest swimmer, tie a rope around his waist, wait for him to cross over and anchor the rope to something, then we crawl along that rope and get to the other side! We can ford the wagon as long as we keep it on the right side of the rope! Now shut up, I need to think for a moment!”

Fei looked as angry as raging bull. Nui couldn’t remember the last time he saw the man do anything but scowl, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He had an idea on how to get rid of Fei and all he had to do was volunteer to swim across first. He raced over to Hong.

“My Lord, I’m a very adept swimmer, let me cross first with the rope and then you and the rest come across with the wagons. Let Fei head up the rear and we’ll meet you up the road.”

Hong nodded. “Good to see someone taking charge of the situation rather than ranting about it. Get a long rope and tie around Nui!” he shouted.

Nui could feel Fei’s eyes on him the entire time he went about setting up the rope. He walked over just before Nui set foot in the rapid current.

“You try anything funny and I _will_ make sure there’s nothing left of you.”

Nui didn’t even respond to him. He simply dove into the water and was immediately swept downstream a good pace before he could fight the force of the water. He moved with the current, gliding toward the bank as quickly as possible. Every muscle stood out in cords on his body, and his lungs felt like they were burning with exertion. Finally, he reached the muddy back and crawled up, listening to the cheers from across the water as he tied the rope onto a tree jutting from the bank. He shouted that the rope was ready, and slowly the army began to come across.

Despite having something to hold onto, some lost their grip and went careening downstream. Some couldn’t get control of themselves and slipped under the water for good. Other made it to shore down the river bank a little ways down, and others still refused to cross. Nui watched as Fei shot one of them in the head, and then the rest came over. The wagons were floated across with no trouble, and some of the men on the bank threw ropes down to tie around them to help haul them up onto land. Finally, the only one left on the other side of the river was the dead man that Fei had shot, and Fei was the last one coming up.

Nui waited until the others had left to join up with the army, and then he watched the way Fei held onto the stretched out rope for dear life as the rain began to fall harder. Nui crawled back down the bank and latched on to the rope, meeting Fei when there was only about twenty feet left to go.

“You okay, Fei?”

He glared at him. “Get away from me, I’m fine!”

“I’m just trying to help!” Nui called out. “Your hands are slick and you’re nervous. Loosen your grip or your fingers will cramp up on you!”

“I said get away! I’m almost there now!”

Faster than the lightning that raced across the night sky, Nui kicked Fei as hard as he could in the man’s stomach, then whipped out a kunai and bashed the knuckles on both hands, causing him to lose his grip.

“Say hello to Chou-Sueng for me!” he called as Fei went zipping down the river. He screamed so loud for help that his voice cracked, but after a bit, there was nothing left to hear but the sound of rain slapping the surface of the rushing river. He started yelling toward the Jochu road where he saw the others go, yelling for help, but no one came. He crawled up the bank, took a moment to breathe, then began to jog after the group, hollering the whole way that Fei got swept away.

“Come back!” he yelled. “Someone’s got to go after Fei! He lost his-”

He was cut off mid-sentence by a large hand grasping him by the throat.

“I’m a pretty good swimmer too, you traitorous fuck!”

Nui’s head was swimming as he realized Fei had made it ashore and _ran back to him_ , and judging by the grip around his neck, it looked like he might not make it home after all. Maybe the prophetic baby he’d been dreaming about was a figment of his imagination.

Fei slammed him down into the mud, his dizzy head crashing down with a thud. “It was you all along, wasn’t it?” he snarled as he thrashed Nui against the road again. “All those men we lost, the women that disappeared, you were behind all of it!” A fist slammed into his nose and blood burst into the back of his throat. His vision began to get fuzzy around the edges.

“Let… go!” Nui croaked, his fingers trying to claw the fingers away from his throat.

“Fuck you! _You_ say hi to Chou-Sueng!”

Now both hands ringed his throat and Fei straddled him, throttling him for all he was worth. Nui was trying as hard as he could to throw his attacker off of him, but the mud wasn’t giving his feet any grip and it was hard to think with Fei’s body weight squeezing the last of his air from his chest. Just as he was ready to walk into death’s embrace, he saw a glimmer out of the corner of his eye- Fei’s dagger.

He lunged for it with the last of his energy and drew. He was fading fast, but it wouldn’t take much to sever the femoral artery. A quick slash at Fei’s thigh and his life’s blood burst from his body in a messy spray, Fei gasping as he teetered and fell off to one side. Nui rolled the opposite way, coughing and gagging, eventually vomiting because of all the blood he’d swallowed when Fei broke his nose. It felt like hours before he felt well enough to get to his feet. Once he did, he had the worst headache of his life, and he stumbled along the road trying to catch up to the army, hoping to hell that Hong wouldn’t ask too many questions about what had happened. Once on his feet, he took a breath and screamed as he straightened his nose, then turned to walk toward what remained of his enemy’s army.

As luck would have it, he found Hong standing alone at a bend in the road. He approached cautiously, his hands out at his sides. “I had to do it, My Lord!” he shouted hoarsely. “He tried to kill me! Look at my nose, my neck! You can probably see the bruises!”

Hong nodded once. “I’m not angry.”

Nui stopped, his brows knitted in confusion. “You’re not?”

“No. Your feud was bound to come to an end before we reached Shang-Po, though I’m surprised that you were the victor.” He shifted his weight. “Nui… Were you really behind all the deaths and rounding up the women?”

Nui’s shoulders slumped. “Of course not, My Lord. It’s like Chou-Sueng told me once, I’ve got bad karma from a past life. Death has been following me for years, it seems.”

Hong approached him, and to Nui’s surprise, the man wrapped his arms around him. “I’m so sorry, my friend.”

Shocked, Nui wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He returned the hug the man offered him, closing his eyes as the rain soaked him to the bone. This was the last target… He should do it now while they were alone and so close to one another. He let his hand drag down Hong’s back slowly, making his way toward the man’s belt where his polished kunai were stored.

“I want you…”

Nui’s blood froze. Did he just… Was that _desire_?

“S-sir?”

Suddenly Hong stepped away, shaking his head and rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry, I’ve not been myself lately.” He turned and began walking briskly back toward where he assumed the army was waiting. “Come along, Nui. We’ve got a throne to capture.”

“Wait a moment, Hong-sama…” Nui croaked. Hong stopped walking, but never turned to look back at him. Watching him suffer like this was like kicking a dying dog. The man was suffering enough on his own, Nui wasn’t going to end it so easily. Drawing his death out made his revenge even sweeter.

“We’re not going to make it. Why don’t you cut your losses and escape while you can? Don’t send these men to their deaths. Don’t go willingly to your own execution, either.”

The rain splattered down around them, the endless barrage of raindrops making everything misty and slick. “I don’t even want the throne anymore. I just want my Ma-ma and our baby and to live alone in the woods, happily ever after.”

Nui took a deep breath. “My Lord, I’m very good at reading _ki_ … Yi-san was not pregnant at any time that I knew her.”

Hong just stood there breathing in the rain, his head bowed and looking toward his feet.

“He lies.”

Nui frowned. Was Hong talking to himself?

“He doesn’t lie, Nui’s a good man.”

“You fucked her enough, of course she carried your son.”

“Who cares about that lying whore? It’s the lying brother you should be more concerned with!”

“He stole your very life away from you, it is your duty to end his reign and claim what’s yours!”

“I want my Ma-ma…”

“Yeah, so you can fuck her real good, right? You fucked _her_ the way Tao used to fuck _you_ , remember!”

“I want my Ma-ma!”

“She ran away because you are weak. And a weak man could never take the Imperial throne.”

“SHUT UP!!!” he screamed, hitting his knees, both hands pressed to the sides of his head. “Shut up! Shut up!”

Nui walked over to him, his hand on the man’s back and said, “Forgive me for what I’m about to do, My Lord…” He jerked him to his feet and slapped him as hard as he could across the face, then shook him by the shoulders.

“Snap out of it, My Lord!”

He was crying, but beginning to straighten up. His sniffles began to subside, and he asked quietly, “Slap me once more, please?”

Nui was glad to oblige. “Better now?”

Hong took a deep breath, shook his head a bit and stood straighter. “Yes. Thank you for your help, Nui. Now let’s go on to Shang-Po for the last time.”

Nui followed him gladly, enjoying the peace that came with Fei gone, even if his throat and head were aching. It had been worth the cost to get to this point. By dawn, Shang-Po was in sight. At last, his nightmare would soon be over, and hopefully the next sunrise, he would be in Niao’s arms.


	10. CHAPTER EIGHT

“Goddamn,” Havoc muttered. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, but it still blows my mind when I see it rain for two weeks straight. And there’s still two or three more weeks of this to go before it’s over.”

Braeda nodded in agreement as the skies rumbled with thunder every now and then. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen a monsoon before. Not sure I want to see another one, if this one ever ends, that is.” The guard towers were covered thank goodness, otherwise, the two of them would’ve been wading in the small space overlooking the Yomunaga road and the temple complex. He watched his friend light a pipe. “So, you’ve been here a little over a year now, right? You gonna come home when we leave or are you staying put for a while?”

His friend grinned around his pipe. “I’ve got nothing for me back home, really. I mean, I miss my Ma and Pops, but my brother’s married with kids of his own now, and I’m not sure pushing paperwork is what I wanna do for the rest of my life. And there’s no Mustang to compete with here for women. I haven’t decided yet.” He offered his pipe to Braeda, who refused. “What about you? And while we’re at it, have you seen the way Lt. Ross looks at you sometimes?”

Braeda chuckled through his nose. “No, but I hear it’s something I should start taking notice of.” He tapped his chest with his finger, the padding surrounding his bulletproof vest creaking as he did so. “Besides, didn’t have to see to _feel_ that _ki_ thing. But…” he began as he scratched his head. “I can tell she’s conflicted about it, too. So I’m not gonna push anything until she makes a decision. I’m not so desperate that I have to persuade a taken woman to bed me. I’d go to a brothel if I needed it that badly.”

Havoc puffed at his pipe. “Well, something about you in particular’s got her feathers all ruffled. Not sure what though- I can out bench press you, out run you, out drink you… And I’m _loads_ better looking,” he said with a smirk.

“Well, I am a better chess player than you, I can cook better than you, and I can probably please a woman better than you, so I don’t care. And _I_ can out drink _you_ if I recall!” They both broke up into laughter, a pleasant sound among the endless drops of rain pittering off the roof above them. “I missed you, man. Even if I have to sit out here in the rain on guard duty with you, it beats sitting at home listening to the radio and wishing I knew what you were up to.”

They chatted until well after dark, another Xingese soldier bringing them some food and water. The two old friends continued to talk around mouthfuls of rice and slivers of filleted fish and river mussels. Not long after they finished their dinner, Havoc stood up and began to pace in a circle around the perimeter of the guard space.

“What’s eating you?” Braeda asked as he emptied the pipe Havoc had been smoking in order to repack it and smoke it himself.

“Gotta take a shit, trying to walk it off,” he grumbled. “I know we need to watch the walls and we’re supposed to have two men at every tower, but man I really need to go pinch one off.”

Braeda waved his hand. “Go on, you’ll be right back. I think I can handle myself!”

Havoc paced a few more rounds, then stopped. Cupping his hands he leaned over the side and yelled as loud as he could, “Ross! Come stand in for me a sec, I need the latrine!”

“Be right there!” she called back, jogging toward the tower.

Braeda frowned. “Really, dude?”

“Don’t waste the time you have with her, ask her what’s going on and get it out in the open. You’ll both be better for it!” He hurried down the steep stone stairs that wound down to the ground, passing Maria on the way. With his new found senses, Braeda could tell she was nervous about encountering him here- alone.

When the helmet she wore poked up from the stairs, he smiled. “Good night to be a duck, huh?”

She giggled, saying, “Absolutely! In fact, if you were a fish, it might be the only chance you had to swim the capitol!”

There was something awkward about her that he couldn’t remember her ever having before… Maybe Havoc was right, better to get it out and get it over with. Their polite laughter died down, and he invited her to take Havoc’s seat while he was gone.

Braeda cleared his throat. “Listen… I have a personal question to ask you, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to answer me, alright?”

He could see her cheeks pink, even in the low light around them. “Okay.”

Nodding, he proceeded. “Are you and Denny having problems?”

She blinked. Apparently that wasn’t the question she was thinking he was going to ask. She looked down at her feet. “Maybe.”

“Anything I can help with?”

The way her _ki_ flared with embarrassment let him know her thoughts were already straying into dangerous territory. Maria must’ve thought at some point about the possibility of being with him, and that made him question his own feelings for her.

“I don’t think so,” she said after a long pause. “I think he’s got it in his head that I’m some kind of goddess or something, that he’s not on the same level of existence as I am.” Maria raised her gaze from the floor to meet his eyes. “It’s like he’s got nothing of himself to offer to our relationship. He does everything I want to do and praises me for things that really don’t need recognizing. For example, he says I brush my teeth in the most perfect way- who says that, really?”

Braeda felt her _ki_ relaxing some at last, weeks of tension coming out as she told him how Denny never showed her anything like love since they’d gotten together, that his reaction to her was more like an adoring servant who happened to get the privilege of sleeping with his benevolent master on occasion.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s very sweet and very kind, but he’s very boring and I can’t handle being worshipped like that. I’m just a person, and I want there to be more of that ‘equivalent exchange’ between us, does that make sense?”

Braeda smiled at her. “Of course it does. I can imagine it gets frustrating.”

She looked away from him. “I guess you can tell now… How sometimes I look at you too long, or I have a random thought that I probably shouldn’t have about you.”

He nodded, his own stomach in knots as they finally addressed the subject. “I’d heard from others about the glances, only recently did I feel your _ki_ , of course. And someone I talked to yesterday, one of the Xingese soldiers, asked me how my wife was doing- they thought we were married, the way our energies fit together, he said.”

“Yan-Na-san isn’t wrong about that. But before I even knew that about us, I liked you. Even if we didn’t get off to a great start back in Xerxes all those years ago.”

Now it was Braeda’s turn to feel heat in his cheeks. She had to have noticed the way his energy surged at her statement. As the rain continued to pour from the darkness around them, he admitted his feelings to her.

“I’ve always thought you to be a wonderful person, intelligent, funny, kind, and someone I wouldn’t mind dating. When you chose Denny, I was happy to still have you as a friend, but I can’t sit here and say that I’m not interested in you, if you were to become available.” He touched her hand as it rested on her knee. “Please don’t misunderstand me. Denny is a good guy, and I won’t be responsible for breaking you up. I don’t plan on going anywhere or meeting anyone else. If we do this, we do it the right way. Okay?”

Maria’s _ki_ was practically vibrating against his, excited and disappointed at the same time. “You want me to do it in person don’t you?”

“I think that’s only fair. If we were to come back from Xing wrapped around each other, he’d know right away what happened and he might blow both our heads off.”

She sighed. “I feel like I have to wait to get out of an arranged marriage or something.”

“Do you want our fellow men to go home and tell him how we were like animals pawing at each other, or do you want them to say that you never cheated on him and was faithful up until the end?” He lit the pipe he packed with bhang earlier. “I already told you, I’ll wait for you. And if you change your mind once you get home, you won’t have anything to feel guilty about.”

Maria folded her arms. “I’ve mentioned these things to him before, the way he doesn’t show any of himself in the relationship. He’s not going to change.” She stood and walked over to the opposite side of the tower, gazing out over the temple complex. “And how do I know you’ll wait? How do I know you don’t have someone back home and you’re just leading me on?”

He chuckled. “You’re worried about _me_ leading _you_ on? You’re the one with the boyfriend! Besides,” he said, standing and walking over to where she stood. He took her chin gently in his hand, leaned down and whispered against her lips, “I swear to you, there’s no one else.”

As close to the edge of the roofline as they were, he could feel a cool mist against his cheek as he kissed her. Soon, her warm hand came up to hold him, her mouth opening against his in an effort to invite him to deepen their kiss. Braeda couldn’t resist her, no matter how badly he wanted to. He _did_ want to respect his friend Denny and not do this to him, and he _did_ want to wait until Maria was out of her three year relationship… But that _ki_ thing was something he’d never experienced before when kissing someone, and it was like trying to fight against the pull of a strong magnet. Whatever the old woman in Yangsho had been yammering that day about their energies fitting together must’ve been true, because no matter what he’d just said to Maria about waiting and doing things the right way, this they were sharing was much stronger than the words he’d spoken.

It took him a minute to realize his arms had pulled her flush against him and that he was hard as a rock below his belt. But rather than feeling embarrassed about it as he would have in the past, the _ki_ thing just made the situation feel even more right to him. He _should_ be kissing her senseless in the rain and showing his attraction to her by poking her thigh with his excited bits.

With a great amount of effort, he pulled back from her, whispering desperately, “We have to stop, we have to stop…” The sound of their breath was nearly overpowered by the rainstorm surrounding them. “Believe me when I say that I don’t _want_ to, but we have to.”

“Holy crap, that was amazing,” Maria breathed, trembling in his grip.

“You got that right,” he agreed. He felt Maria’s hands trail down the front of his body until she cupped him though his pants. He took a shuddering breath. “C’mon, Havoc’ll be back any minute. I gotta get this thing to go back down.”

“Let me help,” she murmured, slowly rubbing his erection. “It’s not going to take long as hard as you are. Besides, you know he left us alone for a reason.”

“He didn’t mean for us to do anything more than talk! Maybe make out, but not this!” He groaned as his hips moved forward, pushing his length against her palm. “We really shouldn’t, Maria… You’re not helping my resolve here!” She squeezed him and he gasped.

“Twenty bucks says I can do it in under a minute. If I can’t, I’ll give you double in return.”

His mouth collided with hers for a moment, then he was working his belt open as she sunk to her knees. “Sixty seconds, woman. Time starts now…”

* * *

It was killing him to have to sit there without a cigarette, but Jean endured it in order to listen to the conversation between Ross and Braeda, and the panting that came afterward. Oh, he had a pretty good idea of what was going on up there, but for the moment, he was content to let his imagination wander as whatever the two of them were doing resulted in whispered pleas and wet sounds Jean was more than familiar with. Apparently there was some kind of wager between them, and he could hear Ross chuckling as she proudly told Braeda to pay up. Then there was more kissing and the sound of a belt being buckled. He heard Braeda ask if she’d felt their connection through their energies while she was ‘doing it’, and his apology for brushing it all off before. But then he seemed to become aware that they weren’t alone…

He growled, as Jean felt his _ki_ reaching down the stairs. “Havoc, you down there?”

“No!”

“You asshole!”

Now, he lit a cigarette. “Hey, you two were having a moment and I didn’t wanna interrupt!”

“I told you he left us alone for a reason,” Ross offered, and Havoc could hear the smile in her voice as she said it.

“That still don’t give him the right to-” Braeda stopped mid-sentence, just as Jean became aware of a fourth presence, just barely on the edge of his senses.

“You guys feel that?” he called up the stairs.

“Get up here, something’s wrong,” Ross said.

He bounded up, two steps at a time, the sniper rifle on his back now pulled forward and cocked. “What is it?”

“Remember how Mai-san was telling us that all of us who just had our senses attuned to _ki_ would be able to feel concealed energies? Remember how it felt when Princess Chang demonstrated that she had her _ki_ as pulled in as it would go and should be as if she were a ghost? That’s what it feels like.” Ross looked out around them. “Someone’s trying to sneak in, but the minute we detected them, they backed off a little.”

Braeda shoved a magazine into an assault rifle and cocked it. “Hong must’ve sent some kind of assassins to try to get into the capitol before his army showed up. Sneaky little son of a bitch…” He looked at Ross. “Go warn the others, especially the ones who’ve been able to sense _ki_ all this time. They won’t know they’re coming.”

Before she could even begin her descent, the sound of gun fire popped across the city. Maybe eight shots in all, then the sound of two more shots down the wall from them, closer to the stables. The rain had begun to lighten up and apart from the sound of the water surrounding them, silence reigned in the night.

Ross readied her own rifle, making sure she had easy access to a second magazine under her poncho. “I think I’m staying put for now.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Braeda agreed, tugging on a chainmail hood that would protect his neck in a close combat knife fight.

Jean scanned the perimeter, first with his eyes and then with his scope. In the distance, he saw what he thought were three shadows moving out from the tree line near the Yomunaga road, about a mile from the palace gates. A flash of steel in the moonlight let him know these were no shadows.

“I need room, get behind me,” he told his friends as he set the sniper rifle’s legs out on the barrel. He found the shadows once more, tearing through the underbrush at a breakneck pace, but Jean was able to follow them easily. He locked on to the one in the lead and fired once.

His target fell face forward into the mud, and his companions panicked at being detected. While they were distracted, Jean shot them both in the head and said, “Reach out with your senses, they’re not used to being caught, apparently.” He grinned wickedly around his cigarette. “Maybe they wanted to see more of the show you two were putting on up here!”

Braeda growled, “I’m gonna beat the shit outta you when this is all over…”

“Shut up, jeeze,” Jean chided. “It’s not like I’m gonna go run and tell everyone what you guys were doing. Your secret’s safe with me, scout’s honor!”

“You were never _in_ the scouts, you dick!”

“Shh!” Ross hissed. “Cut the chatter!”

By now the rain was barely a drizzle, and Jean hadn’t seen any more shadows in his scope. He scanned even further away, trying to get a look at the road to see if there was an army on its way. But there was nothing. Not a peep, not a flash of steel, absolutely nothing. They heard the sound of horses coming from the stables to their right and watched as Al, the Emperor and Mai Renchen rode toward them. Al called up, “What did you see, Havoc?”

He leaned over the wall. “They looked like shadows with steel machetes. I took out three, might want to check in down the way. Haven’t seen any more of them.”

Mai nodded. “That’s the shadow warriors from Khumri. If Hong’s sent them, he’ll be along shortly after I imagine, My Lord.”

Ling agreed. “Stay quiet, keep scanning the road. At the first sign of an army, one of you spread the word along the posts and one of you alert us.” The Emperor began riding off toward the next post on the wall, his Dragon and advisor behind him.

“Maria, go follow them and see if you can find anything out,” Braeda said, looking out over the back side of Shang-Po’s residential streets. “I bet they’re going to where those first shots were fired, over by the northern pass.”

She gathered up her gun and kissed him before she left. “Watch yourself, Hey.”

“Be careful,” he murmured. “Come back when you know what’s going on.”

She dashed down the steps and out through the streets, weaving between the abandoned houses, her service pistol in her hand. Once she was out of sight, Jean chuckled.

“So, what do you owe her twenty bucks for?”

“None of your damn business, Mr. Eavesdropper.”

“Didja go all the way?”

Braeda turned and glowered at him. “No.” Raising his rifle, he looked out again over the wall, mumbling, “Sure wanted to, though.”

“Eh,” Jean replied, scanning again with the scope, “there’ll be time for that eventually. Hopefully in a good sturdy bed and out of the damp air-” He stopped talking and started firing, Braeda right by his side and firing, too. They were going over the wall into the temple grounds, yelling something in a language that was neither Xingese or Amestrian. Jean managed to immediately take out four of them, Braeda cleaning up the stragglers while two escaped their field of vision.

“How fast can you run, Hey?” Jean asked as he practically leaped down the staircase.

“Fast enough, just go!”

They raced toward the Temple gates, darting behind the last row of houses to block their fire should they be also armed with guns. There was a shriek from within the gates and Braeda shot the lock apart as more soldiers ran to join them.

Without even waiting for further instructions, he and Braeda moved in slowly, crouched down and walking toward the ornate wooden building that looked very similar to the people’s shrine. He yelled out in Xingese, “Surrender now and you keep your lives!”

One of the wooden doors opened and a young priestess gestured for them to come inside quickly. He and Braeda hurried to the steps and entered the building, finding most of the priestesses and two monks shivering with fear.

The woman who’d let them in whispered, “They went toward the dormitory, then went on to the statue of Ong-Xu! They kept asking where the entrance to the palace was!”

Braeda frowned. “The palace is clearly at the other end, what are they talking about?”

“He said they knew it was a decoy, that the real palace is underground and that the entrance was near Ong-Xu’s base. They took Juta and Phua with them,” she nearly sobbed. “They are my best friends, please save them!”

“Just point us in the right direction, miss,” Jean answered calmly. “How many were there?”

“Only three, but that’s three too many.”

Jean looked back at Braeda. “Ready, buddy?”

Braeda nodded. “Let’s get ‘em.”

“Leave one alive if you can, we need some answers.”

Jean led them out the back entrance, the foot of the statue plainly in sight. As they crept closer, they could hear some very accented voices and muffled crying.

“Where is the entrance?” one of the male voices shouted.

“There is no entrance, I swear to you on my life!” one of the priestesses responded. “Please believe me! The Peony Palace is not here, it’s at the other end of the city!”

A loud slap reached their ears as the direction of the voices began to move.

“We’ll get behind them,” Jean whispered as they crept to the opposite side of the statue, finally making it behind the group of three jet skinned men. One was shoving his captive forward, held in an arm lock, while the other two were taking turns prodding the other girl with their machetes. Jean and Braeda shot at the same time, dropping the ones on either side of the middle man, and the priestesses taking the opportunity to run away.

The man spun around, his skin so black he appeared to be made out of the night sky itself, and only the whites of his eyes and teeth were visible.

“You can’t kill us all, and we will find this hidden entrance!” he spat, waving his sword around as if he were taunting them.

“Well, you’re the last one, and we do need you for questioning, so you’re half right about that,” Jean said. “Hey Braeda, show him how to do a Brigg’s salute!”

_POP!_

The warrior fell to one knee, Braeda having shot him right in the ankle. The Xingese soldiers were coming in at last to take him out of the complex and down to the dungeons. “And there is no hidden entrance. I suggest you tell the Emperor everything he wants to know if you want to live.”

“I will never do that! Emperor Ling is a trait-”

_POP!_

He wailed with agony as Braeda shot him in the other leg, this time shattering his kneecap. “You have no advantage here. Better do as the emperor says.”

He started shouting in a language Jean didn’t understand as he was shackled, and the men were none too gentle with his wounds either. The Emperor met the men just outside the gates, scowling angrily at his captive prisoner as he twirled an ornate and delicate dagger in his hand.

“Why did Hong send shadow warriors here?”

Instead of answering, the man spat at him. Instead of repeating himself, Ling approached the man and lobbed a finger off. Alphonse stood behind him, jaw clenched and _ki_ appalled at watching him be so cruel as the warrior bled all over the marble floor of the temple grounds, screaming in pain.

“Next is the whole hand.”

All at once everything came spilling out. Hong had sent them to kill the guards and open the gates, so he could come in with no resistance and take over. The army was all but decimated, more than half of the original members dead or deserted, and Hong himself not in the best frame of mind.

“One of the captains told us there was a hidden entrance in the temple! Said he’d seen it for himself!”

“What was his name?” the Emperor asked.

“N-Nui! Nui said he was close to the Emperor at one time and was shown the real palace!”

Emperor Ling grinned. “Ahh, Nui is still working in our favor. Thank goodness he told you to come _here_ and not the real palace! My entire army was able to surround your group of pathetic fighters and eliminate all of you because of that tactical misinformation.” He looked at the guards holding him. “Let him go.”

“My Lord?” one of them asked.

“He’s given me what I asked him for, let him go.”

Jean and Braeda raised their rifles as the yoke was removed from the assassin’s hands. The Emperor asked them to lower their weapons. “He’s helpless now. Return to your post and await further instructions.” He spoke to the shadow warrior on the ground. “You will have to find your own food and water, and maybe you’d better pray that infection doesn’t set into your wounds. I won’t be responsible for your death, but you will be responsible for your life.” With that, the Emperor convened with his Dragon and advisor, right there at the scene.

“Wait!” the man wailed. “How were you able to sense our presence? No one has ever been able to before!”

“It’s a gift from the god of gods!” one of the priestesses who’d been held captive shouted. “Only Emperor Ling’s allies are privy to the secret of _ki_ detection!”

Scowling, the man tugged a long, thin, kunai looking dart from his belt and stabbed himself in the chin so hard that the point came out the top of his skull. He fell over onto his side and the battle was over.

“I want the Amestrians to load up their trucks with my soldiers. Three should go out from the eastern gate, one in each direction for two miles. Hide them with brush and trees, then put one two miles out from the west gate, and the other two miles out from the southern gate. When Hong’s army comes, we’ll surround him and annihilate his forces.”

“What about their ability to sense _ki_?” the Dragon asked.

“You and Hoi-sama coat the trucks in lead. Gather all the shadow warriors’ bodies you can find and burn them. The smell of burning flesh will draw him in that much faster. While the soldiers are out in the trucks, I want everyone else left n Shang-Po in the palace. We’ll need to give him the impression that the capitol has been left vacant for him to come and claim. I want noise kept to a minimum, and radio contact between the trucks and the palace. Can you do this for me, my Amestrian friends?” he said looking at Jean and Braeda.

“Of course, My Lord,” Jean answered. “We’ll have the radios set up before daybreak.”

The Emperor nodded, his braided beard jostling the small bell he had tied in it. “If what our friend there said is true, it may not be much of a fight, but I’m not taking any chances with this, not when the first prince of the Yao dynasty is set to be born any day now.”

Jean bowed his head. “Understood, My Lord.”

“We have no idea how far ahead of them the shadow warriors were. I advise all of you to get some rest while my Dragon and Hoi-sama ready the vehicles. In the meantime, will all the priestesses and monks please meet me at the entrance to the stables?”

The group gathered in white robes and blue sashes bowed and immediately began to file out of the temple grounds as the Xingese soldiers started piling the Khumri warriors up to be torched. Jean looked at Braeda. “Guess there won’t be any wine tonight, bud. Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Hey, if this war is close to being over, I can’t be disappointed.”

Jean laughed. “Can’t be too disappointed with what happened earlier, either!”

Braeda said nothing, only looked at his friend. Jean smacked him on the back and started walking back to their post, saying the first thing he was going to do when he got home was rent a room in the nicest hotel in Central city and run up a room service bill and make an unnecessary amount of trips to the hot spa bath. When Braeda agreed with him, he knew he’d been forgiven for his annoying comments.

* * *

Mahjong was an easy game that didn’t involve too much thinking or effort, and was easily available in whatever room she chose to be in. Lately, the Empress didn’t feel up to going anywhere with the rains coming down the way they were, or the way her hips ached when she walked. Using the latrine was the worst, to the point that Alphonse made her a toilet so she wouldn’t have to squat over the hole in the bathroom floor. She remembered the toilets in Amestris and couldn’t help but wonder when all of Xing could have the same luxury.

Mei was a patient and loyal friend to her now, fetching fruits or water when she requested them, or simply to help her stand or change clothes. Today, the princess was teaching her Ishvalan friend how to play mahjong and using Lan Fan as the opponent.

“It’s like poker that the Amestrians play, except we use tiles,” Mei explained. “You did pretty good the first round, but let me show you how to _really_ do it! It’s all about bluffing your opponent!”

Lan Fan laughed quietly. “And you think you can bluff me? Remember, we can read _ki_ and know when someone’s lying, mei-mei!” She laughed when Mei stuck her tongue out and suddenly she felt a dull ache growing at the small of her back. She groaned, shifting her weight a bit. “This rain is making everything ache,” she complained.

Mei put the tiles aside for a moment. “Are you alright? Do you want some of the pain relieving tea? How about some cannabis?”

Lan Fan waved her away. “I’m alright. Just achy…” She shifted again, nearly lying on her side now. All at once the ache grew stronger, until she winced with the pain.

“Lan Fan, are you alright?” Mei asked as she and Xiao Mei came immediately to where she was lying.

The Empress couldn’t answer, the pain was too intense. Mei seemed to be checking the clock, though Lan Fan couldn’t be certain. She was doing her best to breathe and ignore the rippling her stomach was doing under her skin. After a long moment, the pain seemed to ease up and she could breathe a little easier. Mei was holding her hand and brushing her bangs from her face.

“Should I find the physician, Mei?” Hazim-san asked in his deep voice.

“Yes, go and tell the guards at the door to bring both Junior Knox and Tsia-san as fast as they can. I don’t think that was a false contraction this time.”

Lan Fan panted, “I don’t think so either.”

“Are you able to move at all?”

She nodded. “Help me up, I want to get to my bed before I’m unable to.”

When she stood, she felt a pop inside of her, and it felt as if she were wetting herself. “Mei!” she cried. They watched as her waters began to flow, soaking the cushions she had just been sitting on.

Mei took a deep breath. “My Lady, Prince Zixin is coming, we need to get you to bed.”

“What about Ling?” she asked, leaving a trail of fluid as she waddled over to the bed she and the Emperor of Xing shared.

“Lan Fan, he’s in the middle of fighting a war, I’m afraid I can’t take him away from that, and I think you understand why.” Mei squeezed her hand. “I’d be happy to stay by your side and help you through this, like I did with my first nephew.”

Just as she made it to the bed, another contraction seized her. This was more intense than the last and lasted a little longer. She panted, just as Henry-san had told her to previously, and it did seem to help the pain a little by focusing on something else. When he and Tsia-san arrived, she told them in very clear words that there would be no fighting between them or else they could spend the next three days in the dungeon.

“We will all work together to bring my son into this world. There will be no negative energy in this space before he arrives.”

They both bowed to her and agreed. Tsia-san spoke first. “I suggest we get some towels and a tub to wash the prince in after he comes. We can save warming the water until it’s closer to time.”

“I agree,” Henry-san said. “I’d also like some wash rags and cool water for Lady Fan’s comfort. We’ll also need to be ready to wipe her clean if her bowels move during labor.”

The servants were instructed to bring the items that were needed as quickly as possible. Right on time, another contraction began in her back before gripping her entire lower half in painful misery.

Henry-san gripped her shoulder when the cramping began to ease up. “I’ve brought my bag, I can give you medicine to dull the pain if you want.”

Lan Fan hesitated. Her mother had borne her and the sister who never breathed without any medication at all. Surely she could do the same… And what about her baby? Would he feel the effects of her burden of labor as well or would he also benefit from whatever relief Henry-san had?

Tsia-san leaned over with a cool rag and a prayer necklace. “My Lady, if this young man has anything to give you some comfort, I suggest you take it.”

Henry-san seemed surprised to hear the woman agreeing with his decision. “It will make the delivery easier for both you and your baby. It’s an injection given into the arm and lasts for about three to four hours.”

Mei kissed her forehead.   “You were miserable last time. Let’s try it, and if you don’t like it you don’t have to take any more of it.”

Unsure of the medication, but sure that she didn’t want to endure any more of the sharp aches in her back and pelvis, she nodded her consent. Henry-san quickly gathered his bag and drew a vial of something out of it, along with a strange container with a thin needle attached to it. The entire room watched as he wrapped a strip of stretchy rubber around her bicep, then inserted the needle into her arm.

The effect was immediate. Relief filled her and she took a deep breath as her body seemed to relax and uncurl. She felt a little lightheaded at first, but soon that righted itself and she was only able to feel the pressure of her abdomen contracting, not the awful pain that nearly made her cry.

“Better?” Mei asked quietly.

She smiled, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks. “So much better!”

Tsia-san was asking if the medicine would keep her from walking as she labored, and though the past few weeks had been awful on her hips when she walked, Lan Fan thought she could _run_ as long as the medicine held out.

“Yes, she should have no trouble, but it would be good for her to have someone on either side to steady her, just in case.” Henry-san held out a hand to her. “Walking will help speed up the delivery, My Lady. Gravity will tug the prince down into the birth canal so you don’t have to push so much.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she answered as she took his hand. Once on her feet she reached for Tsia-san with her other hand. “My first son was very tiny. I felt the most pain in my stomach from the contractions, not from birthing him from my body. I suppose this time will be much different, right?”

“Oh yes, My Lady,” Tsia-san replied. “Your opening must pass something as large as a coconut, and there’s likely to be a lot of painful stretching, maybe even some tearing when the prince arrives.”

The thought of being in pain like that nearly made her nauseous. Cutting her own arm off had been one thing. Having her body torn open from the inside out was another thing entirely.

Henry-san seemed to sense her nervousness in her _ki_. “Don’t worry, Lady Fan. I have all kinds of numbing agents in my bag. I won’t let you suffer long.” He went on to ask Tsia-san what positions the Xingese preferred to labor in, that lying on one’s back in bed when not walking is what the Amestrians did in their hospitals.

“We let the mother choose,” she answered. “Her comfort is the utmost priority. If she says kneeling feels better, that is what we do. If she says crouching feels better, that’s what we do. I will say one thing, it isn’t often any of them choose lying flat on their back.”

He nodded as they held Lan Fan’s hands, encouraging her to walk as much as she could to help speed things along. “See, there’s a lot we can learn from each other, Tsia-san. We’re not enemies.”

Lan Felt her stomach rippling again, and though there was but a fraction of the pain she’d had when the more intense second and third ones had come earlier, she still had to pause to breathe while the baby shifted inside her. Prince Zixin’s _ki_ was calm, if not annoyed.

“He’s resting up too, My Lady. The more we work now, the faster and easier this will all go.”

“I’m ready,” Lan Fan replied. “Let’s keep walking.”

* * *

A soggy, gray dawn was breaking over Shang-Po just as the Amestrians were settling in at the various locations that had been discussed only hours before. While Ling was a wreck over Lan Fan’s labor, he’d told his Dragon he wouldn’t hesitate to do his duty when Hong arrived. Alphonse and Hoi-sama were tasked with holding down the fort while the Emperor walked with his wife up and down the hallways, encouraging her body to let go of the child they’d been waiting so patiently for.

Hoi-sama was smoking a pipe of tobacco, the two of them sharing an amicable silence and watching the endless rain as they waited for word. The radio Fuery had set up for them sat on the ground at Al’s feet, silent as a stone. The smoke from the corpses they’d found and set fire to was drifting toward the north, hopefully enticing Hong and his army to come and claim what they believed to be theirs. The waiting though, after they’d been up all night, was the worst. Al was sure if he could just get a quick nap in…

“Thi-thi?”

“Yeah?” Al answered, eyes closed, now.

“You knew our father, yes?”

Al hummed in response. “You look a lot like him in the way your beard grows from your face, and your even temper is a lot like his was, too.” His half brother seemed sad. “Are you alright, ko-ko?”

The ancient man blew smoke rings from his wrinkled mouth. “I wish I could have known him.”

“When our brother comes to visit, I’ll get him to bring the picture of our family when we were just babies. Hohenheim is crying in it, not sure why, but you can see his face at long last, at least.” He thought back to that picture he’d seen so many times and tried to imagine seeing it for the first time with new eyes. “My mother is in it, too. I hope if I have daughters they have her smile.”

He heard Hoi-sama emptying and repacking the pipe. “My mother also had a beautiful smile. Not many had straight teeth where we were from, but she did. And even though she worked the fields to keep us fed, she always took care of her hands, and they were always soft, never calloused.” He sighed. “I miss her. I’ve been alive a long time, and she’s been gone quite a while.”

“Yeah,” Al said softly. “No one ever fills that hole in your heart, never. As much as I love Mei and can’t bear to think of living without her, she’ll never be my mom.” Something occurred to him. “I wonder how many more children Hohenheim sired besides us.”

Hoi-sama hummed in thought. “If he was as old as he claimed to be, there’s no telling.”

That caused Al to chuckle. “Edward would be spitting curses to hear us speculating on Dad’s conquests and children.”

“Ed doesn’t seem to be very logical about relationships, it seems.”

“You’d be right about that.” Al sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Thick as a brick when it comes to love and romance. How he ever managed to find a wife and father two children is beyond me. What about you, ko-ko? Anyone ever catch your eye before?”

Hoi-sama seemed to think about it. “I don’t recall being attracted to anyone really. My love was the strange hobby I had with the circles. I’ve never lain with a woman, or a man… Never had any desire to.” He went on to explain that he had seen some beautiful people in his lifetime, and that he could appreciate them for beauty’s sake, but that he never had any romantic feelings that he could recall.

“Guess it was something I was born without.”

Al was about to tell him that from the stories he’d heard, Hohenheim and Ed were just about like twins when it came to how dense they were toward people who found them attractive when the radio on the ground crackled to life.

“Col. Miles to the Dragon, can you read me?”

Al jerked the handset from the box. “Dragon here, Colonel, go ahead.”

“We’ve spotted the army. They’re about a mile north of our position, moving steadily toward the capitol. Hong seems to be in the middle of the march driving a very primitive cart that looks filled with soaked ammunition. ETA in these conditions is just under an hour. Your orders?”

“How many wagons do they have, Col. Miles?”

A pause. “Three. One looked to be damaged, broken wheel or something. There was a person holding the axel.”

Al thought a moment. “Wait until the rear has cleared you by about a mile, then close your distance slowly. All the east gate trucks need to do this, copy?”

Two different voices responded back with an affirmative.

“The west and north trucks, go ahead and come into the capitol, plug the gates up and await further orders. He’s coming from the east and we don’t want to give him any easy ways out.”

Two more affirmative responses.

“No one is to open fire on any of them unless fired upon. Emperor Ling wants him captured alive if at all possible. Over and out.”

He closed his eyes, reaching out to his wife with their strange telepathic bond. _“You might want to inform Ling that Hong is nearly here. We have visual contact of him on the Yomunaga road.”_

Mei relayed the message, passing on that the baby was close to crowning. _“He’s on his way. Pissed off, but coming just the same.”_

Not two minutes later, the Emperor arrived, flustered and _ki_ lashing out anxiously. His hair was in a braided knot on top of his head, wearing a sleeveless shirt and plain linen pants. He was carrying his new Drachman armor and rifle that the Amestrians had delivered to him.

As he dressed, he asked, “How much longer before he arrives?”

Al stood up to help him with the bulletproof vest. “Col. Miles said a little under an hour. The roads are awful I imagine, but from what I understand they are moving at a pretty good pace, all considered.”

“You told them I want him alive, right?”

“Of course. I had the western and northern gates blocked with the transports, would you like for me to bring the soldiers to the palace?”

The Emperor considered the suggestion, then said, “Put a small unit of Amestrians at both gates, I want rocket launchers trained on Hong’s forces when they arrive in the city. The soldiers at the west gate should go to the school’s rooftop to get a better vantage point, but I want both those gates closed and blocked with the trucks.”

Al nodded as he finished strapping the vest snuggly to Ling. “I’ll do it as soon as you’re protected.”

“I want Hong Yi brought up to the throne room. I’m going to use her as a bargaining chip to keep him calm and less combative. And Nui is with him to help us out as well… I’m going to put him on trial and let someone else give the order to execute him. I won’t do it unless I absolutely have to.”

“It’s almost over, my friend,” Al said. “And your son won’t know the hell of war.”

The Emperor smiled wide, giving an exasperated and breathless chuckle. “My son is already demanding I drop everything to focus on him! First things first though, I _will_ make my country safe for him to live in, and all the other children in this nation.” He took a deep breath, then reached into his pocket underneath the steel lined skirt leather he wore to protect his lower body. “Mind if I borrow your pipe, Hoi-sama? I’ve got to focus before Hong gets here and I’ve got a ripe nugget of cannabis to help me do that.”

The old alchemist bowed his head. “Of course, My Lord. What’s mine is yours.” He passed the plain brass pipe to him and watched as he lit a straw in the nearby lamp and took a deep breath of the soothing herb’s smoke.

He exhaled without even a choke, closing his eyes and saying, “Ong-Xu, you’ve guided me so far on my strange journey through this world. I humbly ask you to not let me fall before I see my son’s face.”

Al patted his shoulder. “I’m sure everything will be fine, Ling. We’ll have him outnumbered and surrounded, and with better armor than what he has. We will be victorious.” Al watched him take another draw form the pipe, asking for Ong-Xu to keep Lan Fan safe while he was away from her side and to make their victory swift and easy as possible for everyone. Then he handed the pipe to Al.

“One for luck, right?”

Al breathed a mouth of smoke deep into his lungs before passing it to Hoi-sama, who did the same. “Now. We’re all ready, My Lord.”

Ling nodded. “Continue to man the radio. I’m sending one of the servants down to escort Yi-san to the throne room while I bring Huilang from the guest suite. We’re going out to the palace steps to wait for him.” He grasped Al’s arm. “I want you to know how proud I am of you. Your being here and helping me this whole time has been a blessing. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to be my Dragon.”

Al grinned at him. “Don’t start making speeches like this is your last day on earth. I’ll be watching up here and commanding our forces with the radio. Once this is over, we’ll go and meet the prince together.”

Ling nodded. “Victory first, then wine.”

Al couldn’t agree more with that. He looked over the balcony toward the eastern gate through his binoculars. He couldn’t see them yet, but he knew they were coming. He picked up the handset for the radio at his feet and gave new orders to the northern and western units as Ling had instructed, and then he decided to turn it over to the god of gods who’d been seemingly running the show all along.

“And the wine will flow like water tonight. Right, ko-ko?”

Hoi-sama agreed.


	11. CHAPTER NINE

Despite the rain, voluminous clouds of smoke rose upward into the slate colored sky. Nui frowned, worried that maybe they’d arrived too late or that the shadow warriors had completed their task as they’d been hired to do. They were very close now, perhaps another ten minutes and they’d be at the gates… The deadly sharp dagger hanging from his belt was practically screaming to be quenched with Hong’s blood. He thought to himself, _“Soon, my trusty blade. It will be today.”_

The city’s walls were unmanned, the guard towers empty as they approached. They saw no Xingese soldiers, but also saw no shadow warriors… and the enormous likeness of Ong-Xu had his back turned on them, seemingly tending to the fire that was burning the corpses. Something was definitely amiss. Nui wondered if the Emperor had been successful in capturing or eliminating the jet skinned Khumrians.

Hong whooped as the gate came into view. “Shang-Po is ours for the taking! The true Emperor has returned at last!”

His men shouted in celebration, stopping and making a path for him to drive the wagon ahead of them, ensuring he was the first one into Shang-Po. Nui’s hands gripped the rain slickened boards he was seated on as the wagon charged through the mud. The cart was so soaked that only the inner most boxes of ammunition could likely be saved, but Hong insisted on dragging it all along with him anyhow. Something about giving him a more threatening appearance.

The city was silent as a tomb, not even a stray dog or cat in sight. The houses were dark and cold, the businesses shuttered and quiet as well. As they rode on to the pavilion in front of the palace, they found a message engraved into the smooth marble there, and Hong stopped the cart to read it.

_**‘I have Hong Yi. If you would like to reunite with her, tell your forces not to fire upon us,**   
**and I will have mine not fire on you.’** _

Hong’s eyes were wide as he reread the message out loud. “Ma-ma is here? How did he find her!?”

He made to charge toward the palace, but Nui stopped him. “My Lord, Emperor Ling is a kind man, he is trying to spare your life. Better order the men to do as he says to make sure we don’t needlessly lose any lives today.”

The man was on the verge of tears. He took a shuddering breath. “Yes, I don’t want him to kill her in order to get at me. Thank you for your guidance, friend.” He put his face in his hands and sobbed a moment before his men joined them. He thanked the god of gods for her safety, then turned to his army.

“The city is safe, even with my brother still on the throne. Put down your weapons as a sign of truce. I’m going to meet him and get my mother back, then I’ll slit his throat and sound the all clear.”

His men saluted him, and Nui walked with him up to the Peony Palace, rising up the grand staircase quickly. As they neared the top, the Yao son he’d helped train many years ago sat on a canvas stool, flanked by two women- one was the woman Hong had declared to be his mother/wife/Empress, and the other the priestess who had been attacked the day Ling-sama was declared Emperor.

On a table before him was a pair of documents encased in glass, and a sword that looked as old as the palace itself. “Hong Chen, I’ve been expecting you.”

Hong’s hands balled up into fists clenched so tightly they turned white. “Give me my mother and I will spare your life.”

Ling, who seemed broader and taller now, rose from his seat. He took Yi-san’s hand and helped her to her feet. “I have no want to keep you separated. Rest assured, she’s been treated properly the whole time she’s been with us- well fed and cared for, her tongue still in her head.”

Hong snatched her from him and pulled her into his arms, the water soaking his clothing now wetting her fine silks. He broke down when her arms held him tightly. He asked about their child, whether she’d even been carrying one or not, told her how worried he’d been over her, and then she pulled away from him.

“Ah-Chen, there’s something you really need to see.”

“I already have everything I need right here before me- you and my palace. I don’t need anything else, ma-ma…” She twisted away from him and he only watched with his mouth hanging open.

“You really must look at what I have to show you, and listen to the story that me and the high priestess tell you. Do it for me, at the very least.”

Nui grinned to himself. The Emperor had worked out some plan with the both of them and he was never prouder of the brat. He continued to stand in the rain as Hong followed Yi-san to the top of the steps.

“Nui, no need to stand in the downpour, come up and join us!” Ling called out to him.

He met the young man’s eyes and bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Yi-san was holding the glass containing the two documents, and she cleared her throat. “The Hong clan of Umatsho is hereby declared unworthy of the Emperor’s Sacred Challenge after producing a stillborn princess with multiple deformities both inside and outside of her body. Such impurities come from the mother, and shall not be considered for Imperial rule until such time when the Hong family can prove the deformations have not existed in the bloodlines for over four generations. Stamped and sealed on the twentieth day of the lion month, year 9210.” She showed him the stamps, her own name, that of Emperor Wu, and the foot print of an infant that had only four toes.

“The next piece of paper is from the records keeper, showing the birth of this doomed princess, as well as the other royal children who came both before and after her. Ah-Chen… You are not on this list.”

The Emperor held up the sword next to him. “As was customary, the Hong sword was seized and placed in the armory with that same declaration wrapped around the blade. It bears the lapis lazuli frog of your house… It’s not a fake.”

Hong looked bewildered at the news. He took the glass case and looked at the pages with his own eyes. “I don’t understand… Ma-ma… Why did you lie to me all these years?”

She touched his shoulder. “Your father ordered me to, because you were a child created of love and not out of duty. He wanted you to win the challenge more than anyone else, and he rigged the game not thinking Emperor Ling would ever discover the secret to immortality. But when you turned cruel and spoiled, he had no choice but to give a fair player his reward. And if you hadn’t been so corrupted, perhaps you could have appreciated that our Lord would have allowed you to remain in the capitol with a delegated duty of some sort.” Then she frowned at him. “Besides, when I tried to tell you the truth, you _cut my tongue out._ ”

All at once, Hong stood up. “What is this? Some kind of joke? You’re telling me I’m not even a prince?”

Yi-san looked up at him with shimmering eyes. “You are not even my son, Ah-Chen. You were born the same day as my only daughter, and I was given you to raise as my own in her place.”

“Not even your son!?” His hands were pressed to either side of his head now. “The womb that bore my child had never borne me?”

Yi confessed then that she had made up the pregnancy in order to spare herself from his brutal treatment, nothing more. “I never carried a child by you.”

“But you laid with me enough…” he whispered.   “We made love many, many times, ma-ma… I wanted so badly to have you bear me a son.” He grabbed her by the biceps and shook her. “I loved you like a wife! Why did you do this to me!?”

Yi-san began to cry. “I would not allow my womb to be quickened by a monster who would knowingly sleep with who he thought was his mother, no matter whether I enjoyed the act or not.”

Emperor Ling drew the Hong sword from its sheath. “Though you were never a real prince, you are still my brother. I still desire to spare your life, even now after all the trouble you’ve caused this nation and its people.” He stepped closer. “But if you do not release Yi-san, I will have to cut you down.”

He threw her away from him and stomped toward the priestess. “So what about you, Huilang? You must be here for some purpose, spit it out!” he roared.

The Emperor stood close to her as she told the rest of the story with a trembling voice. She spoke of how she and his father were lovers before he was even the Emperor of Xing. She told him their romance continued in spite of the mandate of the fifty wives, and that she carried him in her belly in secret.

“You were born in a shrine house near the Hong village because your father wanted to pass you off as twins. But when we arrived, the girl had already been declared dead, and the records keeper was found murdered the next day with her ashes tossed into the river. The Hong village thought it was a miracle, that your sister’s funeral pyre had resurrected a red haired prince from the ashes… And I made up the story about the omen so you would have a better chance of earning the country’s favor should a winner of the challenge not present itself.” She stood and spat at him, “Instead you turned your perfect opportunity to win the throne into a contest of who could be the most vile and abhorrent creature to ever sit on the throne. And when I heard that you’d used living children as archery targets, I was sick that I had ever carried such a devil in my body!”

Hong moved to lunge at the priestess and Ling stepped in between them, the Hong sword blocking his attempt to stab her in the throat with a kunai. “Don’t. It isn’t worth it.”

“GIVE ME MY THRONE!” he screamed as tears streamed from his eyes. “IT’S MINE! GIVE IT BACK!”

“Your throne is made of lies. Better to have a bed of feathers, don’t you think?” Ling asked him, shoving him backward with the back of the blade. “Get out of Xing right now and I’ll let you live. If you stay, I’ll try you for treason and you’ll likely be hanged in the pavilion for everyone to see. I don’t want the last thing you hear to be the delighted cheers of the people you wanted to control.”

“Ah-Chen, the Emperor is being merciful! He is trying to spare your life! Take the chance and leave while you can!” his ma-ma cried.

Hong seemed to consider the option, relaxing his stance and backing off slowly, but as soon as the Emperor lowered the Hong sword and turned…

“I’LL KILL YOU!” He roared, landing on Ling’s back and slitting the Emperor’s throat , an arc of blood spurting forth and dotting the floor in front of him as they both went down. Nui landed on top of both of them, jabbing his dagger into Hong’s right kidney twice, trying for a third time when red lightning crackled around the young Lord’s head. Nui jumped off and kicked Hong off of Ling. He’d seen that red lightning before- in the Emperor’s chambers when he asked that guard to smash his skull in with a huge vase… And didn’t he say something about a few souls remaining inside of him?

“I told you I had the secret of immortality, ko-ko,” he grinned as he rolled over. He fingered the place on his neck where a gash should be, but there was nothing. “Not even a scratch.”

Hong lay on his back, bleeding profusely from where Nui had stabbed him. “Th-that can’t be!”

Ling took the blade from his brother’s bloody hands and _cut his own throat_ , and just as before- there was an arc of red lightning before the wound closed itself, as if it had never even happened. “You can’t kill me. It’s time to surrender.”

“No!” he sobbed, snot running from his nose as Yi cried off to the side.

Nui jerked him up by the straps on his breastplate. “I have been killing your captains one by one, trying to get to you, you monster. Your slow stable hand with the enormous build, the one they called Tao- I ripped him apart with my bare hands and this very dagger! Your fuck friend robbed me of a son, so I robbed you of everything you held precious.”

Hong cried harder, voices coming from his mouth that were spitting out different sentences that didn’t match, likely the voices in his head going crazy with this final blow. Without anything left to say, Nui cut Hong’s throat.

At long last, the war for Xing was over.

By this point, the Golden Dragon had joined them, trying to be dutiful in talking with the Emperor about their next steps concerning the army Hong had led into the capitol. His eyes couldn’t stop staring though, death a new sight to the young man. If he planned on staying in that position, he’d better get used to seeing men die in front of him.

“Nui, would you kindly go down and give orders to those men to surrender peacefully?” the Emperor asked. “We’ve had enough blood spilled in Shang-Po today.”

He agreed, then turned to the women with them. “I’m sorry you had to witness such brutality. Particularly you, Yi-san. I know you raised him as your own and loved him dearly, even when he was going astray.” She thanked him through her tears as Huilang offered her an embrace of comfort, the two mothers who were unable to save the son they both gave life to.

Nui sprinted down the steps, his enemy’s blood washing away from his armor and clothing in the downpour surrounding him, on his way to tell the small army he’d helped lead to the capitol to put down their weapons for good, that the war was over and they would all know peace at last.

And after that, he was going to find Niao and never leave her side ever again.

* * *

“What should we do with his body?” Al asked him.

Ling took a breath, thinking. “Build him a proper pyre. Even though he wasn’t a prince, he was a son of the Emperor. We can at least show him that much respect in death to not toss him on the pile with the shadow warriors.” He looked out toward the group of ragtag men who’d accompanied Nui and Hong, watching them look around fearfully once they realized they’d been surrounded by armed gunmen.

“Put them in the barracks, give them hot food and dry clothing. Explain to them that they’re welcome to stay so long as they don’t cause any trouble. I’m sure some were bullied into service, anyway.”

Al agreed, then stopped mid sentence. He turned toward the main entrance. “The prince is here, My Lord!” he said as he raced away toward the stairs inside. “Mei said he was born smiling!”

Ling felt like his heart had stopped beating. The child he’d been feeling grow stronger and healthier within Lan Fan’s strong body was finally here, alive, and ready to be held and loved. He dashed after Alphonse, catching up to him and going on to beat him to his quarters where he’d left Lan Fan earlier. He burst through the door, watching as Tsia-san wiped his son down with a wet cloth while Junior handled delivering the afterbirth. After both placenta and baby were free from Lan Fan, Tsia-san handed Prince Zixin to his Aunt Mei so she could tie his life cord with some twine and free the boy from the bloody mass that had fed him while he lived within his mother.

“Come here, My Lord!” Mei gushed. “Come look at him!”

It took what felt like two steps to get to her side- and then he was gazing on the life he and Lan Fan had created on the longest night of the year, after giving up hope that they’d ever be able to have any children after their first son’s demise.

Just as he’d been told by Huilang, the prince giggled briefly before opening his dark eyes and smiling up at his father. His _ki_ reached out to him, touching his father’s experimentally. Mei shuffled the boy over to his arms and Ling couldn’t focus on anything else in the room at that moment.

“Hello, little one,” he said quietly, smiling so hard his face hurt. “We’ve been waiting to see you for a very long time. Ma-ma and I are so happy you’re here!”

Zixin’s _ki_ became warm and loving as he realized this voice and energy was his father. It occurred to Ling then that maybe the reason Hong had turned out the way he did was because he sensed on some level that Yi-san wasn’t his real mother. Ling was determined that Zixin, nor any of his brothers and sisters to come, would ever know that hell.

“Qin-ai-de,” Lan Fan said from the bed beside him. “Isn’t he beautiful? Our little boy, finally here and healthy as can be.”

Ling sat down beside her. “He’s gorgeous, Lan-chan. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when he first arrived, but the war is finally over.” He bent and kissed his son’s forehead. “You’re safe for now, but I’m gonna do all I can to keep it that way, Ah-Xin.” He looked around the room beaming. “Me and all our family and friends… You’re safe with us, my son.” The baby in his arms cooed again, grinning brighter than the sun. Then he began to fidget and get cranky. Ling looked to his wife.

“What’s he doing?” he asked nervously.

Lan Fan smiled, reaching out for her son. “He’s probably hungry. Let me feed him.”

Ling carefully passed him to his ma-ma, watching as she bared a breast for him to suckle from. He latched on without a problem and began to nurse, his fingers curled around Lan Fan’s pinkie.

“He looks just like you,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I feel like the luckiest man alive right now.”

“Congratulations, My Lord,” Al said quietly. “We’ll give you some time to yourselves.”

Ling looked up, grinning at his Dragon. “Start planning your wedding! My son needs cousins!”

Both Al and Mei seemed excited at the idea. “Of course, My Lord. I’ll see to our captives in the barracks and then retire for the night to ‘do some planning’,” he said with a wink.

Not long after that, Tsia-san and Junior were giving final instructions to them both, then left soon after. All that remained was the royal family in the imperial bed chambers.

“Lan Fan,” he began quietly, “if we make babies this beautiful, it’s our duty to make as many of them as we can.”

She chuckled softly, turning her face up to his for a kiss. “Let me recover from birthing this one first, then we’ll give it another go, alright?”

“Of course, Lan-chan.”

The rain came down in buckets outside, but it didn’t matter to Ling anymore. His son had come, his enemy lay dead on the palace steps awaiting his funeral pyre, and his people were _all_ safe now. It didn’t take him long to find sleep that night, and he was glad to be awoken by a crying infant than a crying wife only a few hours later. Ong-Xu had seen him through his toughest trials, surely waking up with a baby would be one of the easier things he’d ever have to do in his life.

* * *

Huilang had blessed them both and swept the sacred ringing materials into two separate silk bags, and now Al and Mei were delivering them to the eternal fire burning at Ong-Xu’s feet in the temple complex. They knelt down on luxurious cushions there to offer prayers and to ask the god of gods for his blessing.

Instead, they were communicating through their strange alchemical bond.

_“You look amazing,”_ Al told her. _“Just please don’t smack me with the headdress, it looks like we’d both get injured.”_

Mei tittered out loud. _“I told the girl it looked like a curtain rod!”_ She took a moment to smooth the apron down in the front. _“I really like the golden cloud of your clan, Dragon-san.”_ The motif was embroidered on her sleeves and the front panel of her outfit.

_“It’s the sigil of your clan as well, darling. You belong to me now, remember?”_

She hummed. _“That’s right, I did say that once didn’t I?”_

_“Yep, right around the fourth orgasm, if I recall correctly,”_ he said with a smirk.

_“They should call you the Lewd Dragon…”_

He cleared his throat. _“And you’d be just as guilty, with some of your lascivious suggestions.”_

_“Well, my mother was a professional courtesan, of course I know more about some things than you do, my love.”_

Al’s eyes flicked backward over his shoulder. _“Think we’ve been ‘praying’ long enough?”_

Mei agreed. _“I think so. Ready to go to phase two of Operation: Wedding Day?”_

He sniggered through his nose as he got to his feet, his ceremonial sabatons reminding him a little of the armored feet he had back when he was a soul bound to antique armor. _“Been spending too much time around the Amestrian soldiers.”_

_“They’re good people.”_ She beamed at him. _“I wouldn’t be marrying an Amestrian if I didn’t think so.”_

He couldn’t help a quick kiss before reaching the shrine. “I love you.” He glanced over to the crowd just in time to see both Roy Mustang and his brother Ed give him a thumbs up. He gave them one in return, then stepped into the temple shrine to make an offering to the Chang family god, Ohoyama.

* * *

“This is the longest wedding I’ve ever been to,” Ed grumbled. “‘Course, waiting on _you_ to even get married probably the second longest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Roy chuckled quietly, looking on as Alphonse and his bride made offerings at the people’s shrine in Shang-Po. “Well, I’m betting the first time you made love is the _shortest_ experience you’ve ever had.”

Riza hissed at them to both to hush as she held Ed and Winry’s daughter, Sarah. “Knock it off, you two.”

They listened as the priestess in the ornate blue robes led them through prayers that asked deceased loved ones for their protection and guidance as they began their lifelong union. Roy found the whole experience enchanting, how many steps in the process there were compared to Amestrian weddings. “Hey, aren’t you participating in the next part?” he asked.

Ed folded his arms over his chest, a frustrated sigh coming from his lips. “Yeah, something about serving tea as an offering from both of them to both families. Me and Win, the kids and the old hag get to sit next to my much older brother.”

“Oh yeah!” Roy exclaimed quietly. “How did the meeting with him go?”

“He’s alright,” Ed said with a little grin. “Kinda creepy how much like Hohenheim he looks, but he’s okay. His humor’s a little dry, but that could just be the language barrier. Al says sometimes stuff doesn’t translate equally.”

Roy nodded, moving with the crowd as Al and Mei proceeded to the next stop in the wedding processional. “Catch up with you in a bit,” he said as Riza handed Sarah to Edward. The Elrics and Ms. Rockbell were led to a raised platform where Xing’s oldest alchemist sat, as well as Mei’s small family. He joined Riza as they watched everyone take their places. He reached down and took her hand.

“Let’s not go home.”

Without missing a beat, she squeezed his hand and replied, “Alright.” She rested her head against his arm, and Roy closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Yes, this is exactly where he wanted to be- in a crowd with his beloved showing him affection- and no repercussions for it.

“Alright,” he echoed happily.

* * *

Rin had been invited to the Dragon’s wedding by the Emperor himself, who invited all of the Phoenixes to the capitol for the event. The Emperor’s speech was stirring, the first official presentation of Prince Zixin had been adorable, and now the Dragon himself was thanking everyone for their presence and to dig into the feast specially prepared for the event. She got to see the Dragon’s family, all beautiful blondes like him, and wondered if she’d ever get to find a blond like that for herself.

She excused herself to use the latrine, and on her way back she stumbled right into the arms of one of the Amestrians. She stammered a heavily accented apology, then looked up into the man’s face.

Tall, blond, blue eyed perfection looked back at her, a rolled cigarette clenched in his teeth. He smiled at her and she melted.

“No need for an apology, miss,” he responded in Xingese. “Where are you rushing off to?”

Rin felt her cheeks heat as his _ki_ began to attempt to soothe hers. “I was heading back to my table, I didn’t mean to bang into you so suddenly, sir!”

He grimaced, waving his hand toward the dais where all the important people were sitting. “If you’ve had dessert, then the rest of this is all boring speeches.” He offered her his arm, saying, “I bet you and I would have lots more interesting things to talk about, if you’re interested.” When she hesitated, he added, “You didn’t bang into me, miss. Maybe I stopped you on purpose… You’re the prettiest girl here, after all.”

Wow, she felt like swooning. “Um, I don’t mind spending a bit of time with you, but I have to insist on knowing your name.”

He took her hand and threaded it through his arm. “You can call me Jean. Jean Havoc- or I guess here you would say Havoc Jean.”

She dipped her head, saying, “I am Foshu Rin. You may call me Rin, Jean.” He gave her a genuine smile and Rin was sure this time she really was going to faint.

“That’s a lovely name, Rin. So what should we talk about first? How about that strange rod in Princess Chang’s hair?”

Rin laughed loudly, then remembered her manners and covered her mouth with her sleeve like a lady. “Yes, I’m not sure that was a good idea! The poor Dragon looked afraid of it!”

“I’ve been in Xing over a year now, and I’ve never seen a headdress like that!” He sighed after their laughing fit passed. He gestured to the excitement around them. “It’s nice to see Shang-Po full of life again. It was sad when everyone was gone… Too empty, too quiet.” He looked over at her. “What was it like in Tsing-Pei? Or were you in Chao-Shua?”

Rin thought the sound of his voice speaking was particularly attractive, the way his Amestrian accent spun the Xingese words in his mouth… She didn’t want him to stop talking! Why did _she_ have to say something?

“We were in Tsing-Pei, which was a little easier, because no one lived there anymore after Prince Ki’s murder. In Chao-Shua there was more tension from the three original families living there putting up with all the extra people.”

“I’ve been in Shang-Po ever since I arrived here. I’d love to see more of Xing someday.” He patted her hand. “Maybe you could show me sometime. I’m planning on staying here, I’d like to know the best place to settle down and start a family.”

Rin’s _ki_ jumped at his words. She felt his respond in kind, soothing and shushing her. “I see.”

“So, I noticed you were sitting with the Phoenixes. Are you one of the clan representatives?”

“No, I’m actually in training to be one of the teachers. But I already have permission to stay in Shang-Po and remain with my host family.” She stammered that she wasn’t betrothed to anyone, that no one had really been interested in her because of the family she stayed with, and that she couldn’t return home because of the shame she’d bring back to her family.

“Well Rin, I’m not seeing anyone either… And I’m already sort of a shame on my family, too. I’d say you and I could become really great friends, don’t you?”

He stopped them at last, underneath a deep red maple tree, seemingly miles away from the noise of the crowd. “Jean, are you propositioning me?” she asked nervously.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t know that Xingese word.”

“Umm,” Rin stammered. “Well, what I mean is… uh, how should I say it… Are you asking me to… ‘bed’ you?”

His eyes widened. “Shit, I didn’t mean _that_!” Then he scratched his head as his cheeks pinked. “Well, maybe _eventually_ , but not right away!”

Rin burst out laughing, leaving Jean to ask her what was so funny. She playfully smacked his arm.

“If you’d be yourself, you’ be even more handsome!”

He had a confused grin on his lips. “R-really?”

“Don’t try so hard, Jean. How long have you been watching me?” Rin asked as she took a seat on a stone bench beneath the tree, finding it strange that her nerves dissipated so quickly once his true personality was revealed.

“Okay, I’m not going to lie to you, but don’t be angry. Promise?” When she nodded, he told her he’d had his eye on her for over two weeks.

“Really? Why didn’t you say something to me sooner?”

He looked at his toes joining her on the bench. “To be honest, I’m not very good at talking to women, so I had to devise a way to get your attention.”

“Well, you have my attention now. And I’ve definitely seen you around… Hard to miss someone with golden hair like the Dragon walking among the normal folk.” She looked at him in the low light and thought he was devastatingly handsome. “What did you want to really ask me?”

Jean swallowed and she felt his _ki_ bolster itself. “I’d like to court you. I don’t know the rules for that here, but I want to learn them.”

“In Shang-Po, Madam Yong is my benefactor. You’d have to ask her permission, but I’m sure she wouldn’t object. And I know I wouldn’t object…” She took his hand in hers, rough and calloused from some kind of weapon. “I’d be happy to court you, Jean.”

“I do have one question before we start this together,” Jean said quietly. “How old are you, Miss Rin?”

“Nineteen, almost twenty. Why?”

Jean sighed in relief. “I was afraid you’d be younger than that. I’m twenty-nine, ten years difference isn’t too bad, is it?”

She shook her head. “No, not at all.” She noticed he was leaning down toward her.

“Is it alright if we seal this agreement to see one another with a kiss?”

Rin thought he would never ask. She responded by tilting her head backward and meeting his lips. The smoke on his breath was sweet, and Rin felt like she could die happy, at last. When he pulled back from her, she licked her lips, and her grinned at the action.

“Please don’t tell me I was your first kiss,” he said with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Alright, I won’t tell you, then.” Rin fanned herself a moment. “Not to rush back to my seat, but if we’re seen together before we have permission, it will look bad on all of us. Just come by tomorrow afternoon when the children are in school. Everyone knows where Madam Yong lives, just ask.” Before she dashed away, she kissed him once more, saying she couldn’t wait to see him again. As she scurried back to the wedding feast, she heard him begin to sing in Amestrian:

“Blue night and you, alone with me,  
my heart has never known such ecstasy.  
Am I on earth? Am I in heaven?  
Can it be the trees that fill the breeze with rare and magic perfume?  
Oh, no, it isn't the trees, it's love in bloom.”

Rin wondered if he knew she understood Amestrian as well as Drachman. She figured it would give them something to talk about later, and concentrated instead on burning the sensation of his lips on hers into her memory.

* * *

For the next three days, Mei and Al stayed in the small house in the royal gardens, making love to each other as often as they could, desperately trying to conceive before their guests returned to Amestris so they could share the good news in person. And while it had taken the Emperor and Empress only two days to create their first son on their honeymoon, nothing had happened yet, and Mei was beginning to worry. Had she taken the carrot seed tea for too long? Had she eaten something to lower their chances? Was Al unable to father children because of the circumstances of his strange puberty after the armor? _Was she barren?_

Al continued to tell her it would happen when the gods were ready for it to happen, but to enjoy their time together regardless of the outcome. Though the thought never really left her mind, she did allow herself to enjoy his attentions to her needful body. Despite how often they did these activities with each other, he still lit her on fire inside like it was the first time all over again. And their unique bond let her know she did something to him, too. The way he panted her name in her ears, the way he grit his teeth when something she did felt incredible… They were made for each other in every sense of the word.

It was the evening of the last day afforded to them on the stay-at-home honeymoon. They’d just eaten their last meal of the night and were lying on their sides, Al holding her tight to him after a slow session that had left her trembling. He was still buried inside of her and kissing the back of her neck when all at once he stopped.

He raised his head and moved his hand down to cup her lower belly rather than her breast. “Mei…”

Her eyes flew open. She could feel it too, now. It was a very small presence, like a pinpoint of light in a pitch black room. Her heart began to race. This was it- their first born’s _ki_ , budding to life deep inside her womb.

“Alphonse!” she squeaked, sobs of joy wracking her body. “We did it!”

She felt him reach out with his _ki_ to the small energy source, and then something even more miraculous happened-

“Holy shit, it’s twins!” Al breathed against her shoulder. “Fraternal twins, Mei!”

“Looks like we caught up to Ed and Winry in one fell swoop!” she laughed as she wiped at her eyes. “Well, what are we waiting for! Let’s get cleaned up and tell everyone the good news!”

It was the fastest shower they’d either one ever taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerning Prince Zixin's laughter: I read a lot about newborn births before I decided to go with this as the prophecy that Huilang sees. While it is extremely rare for babies to have the ability to laugh so soon after birth, it is possible for them to have short giggles or chuckles, and my own son was able to give me grins within an hour of his birth. So this is an actual thing that's able to happen though it is very rare.


	12. EPILOGUE

 

Newspaper clipping Ling brings back for Al after attending Roy's wedding.

([A full size, easy to read image can be found here](https://36.media.tumblr.com/b81103fadba3f9eccc4a34ead96b921b/tumblr_nmws3kHz511st5frlo1_1280.png))

* * *

The phone jangled loudly, startling Ed from his impromptu nap at his desk. He stretched briefly, cracking his neck and back before picking up the receiver.

“Rockbell Automail Academy, how can I help you?”

_“Edward Elric, holding down a real job at last! I don’t believe my ears!”_

Edward’s brows knitted in confusion. “Ling? I didn’t know you were coming for a visit.”

The Emperor laughed. _“I’m not in Amestris, Ed! I’m_ calling you _on our brand new phone line!”_

“That’s great!” Ed exclaimed, sitting up straighter in his seat. “You sound good! No static, nice and clear. How about me?”

_“You sound like you always do- short!”_

Ed grumbled under his breath, not willing to risk being executed by the Emperor of Xing. “Anyways, you made your test call, _your highness_. I got shit to do-”

_“See, that’s what I mean. Short tempered, my friend. You can be as tall and my palace and still be short tempered. Hasn’t married life tempered you any? I mean, the companionship alone does wonders for a person, but then there’s the sex-”_

“Winry’s wonderful,” Ed interjected, his ears burning. “She’s everything to me. And my kids are just as amazing.” He grinned. “Sure, the academy hasn’t really taken off yet, but it will. And I don’t mind manning the phone when it does. So, I guess I have tempered some.”

Ling hummed in agreement. _“Maybe it’s just_ me _you don’t like?”_

Edward sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s not like that. You’re just a different personality than me is all, I guess. You’re obnoxious sometimes, I don’t like obnoxiousness.”

_“What about if I was serious?”_

“Well, that’d be a little better, maybe.”

 _“Good. I do have a reason for calling you, anyhow.”_ The Emperor was quiet a moment. “ _I want to bring you and your family to Xing, teach my people everything there is to know about automail in conjunction with the Knoxes teaching my physicians about modern medicine. Automail is a part of that field, after all. Winry’s close to getting her mastership and I know that academy isn’t going to go anywhere without moving to Rush Valley.”_ Ed could hear the smile in his voice as he continued, _“You’ll be reunited with your brother, both of them, and all our kids will be as close as siblings. I’ll provide you with a house and everything you need to get started. We’d love for you to come.”_

Ed took a deep breath. “Ling, that’s a huge move for us. How would we even get all our stuff across-”

_“I’ll take care of all that.”_

“And how successful do you think we’d be there as opposed to Rush Valley? Your people know nothing about automail, at least the Rush Valley people appreciate the value of different metals and alloys, wire compositions, different kinds of ball bearings…” He bounced his knees anxiously. “I’m not sure the Xingese would ever fully embrace the science.”

Ling sighed over the phone. _“Ed, last year my people had never even seen what a gasoline powered vehicle looked like. Now we’re in talks with the Fleet company in order to come up with an affordable basic automobile that we can both mass produce as an export and use for our own needs. Think of what they could do with automail in a year.”_

As Ling was going on about the advancements Xing had made over the past year, Ed spied Winry out of the corner of his eye, rocking Sarah in her arms. She came into the room and mouthed ‘Who is that?’ while pointing at the phone.

Ed reached for his notepad and scribbled out, ‘Ling, he wants to move us out to Xing and open the academy there’.

Winry gasped. She held her finger up in a gesture for him to give her a moment, then she and Sarah disappeared. When she returned a few minutes later without their daughter, she asked for the phone.

“Hey, Ling- Winry wants to talk to you, okay?”

_“Wonderful! Put her on!”_

Winry eagerly grabbed the phone and Ed knew he was going to have to start packing. “How wonderful that you called, your highness! Where are you staying, I want to talk to you about-“ She paused. “Oh! You’ve got phone service at the palace now! Oh, wow! That’s really great! How is the prince?” She smiled as Ling gushed about his son. Ed got up from his seat and opened a closet, finding a box that had been folded down to a flat size for storage. He opened up and folded the bottom down as Winry continued chatting.

“Yes, James did that, too. But he’ll stop eventually, you just have to work with him and everything will be fine. So Ed mentioned just a moment ago that you’re wanting to open the automail academy in Xing? Are you serious about that- because I’m _very_ interested.”

Ed sat the box on his desk and began to fill it up. Winry smacked his arm, going on to discuss some of the details of the academy’s location and funding. He sighed as he put his hands on his hips and gazed out the window at the tree with the baby swings hanging in it. “I’m gonna miss that sight,” he said to himself, but loud enough for Winry to hear, who made a disappointed face at him.

“Well, how soon were you expecting us to leave? Because we need at least a month to settle our affairs here before leaving… I see, no that should be fine.” Now she reached for the notepad. She wrote quickly: ‘Six weeks, free house, fully functioning workshop and the finest tools and materials- anything I want for FREE! Whatever we need we request from the treasury- personal or professional. Granny can come too.’

Ed sat down in his chair once more. The thought of leaving home wasn’t scary- he’d left home so many times before and never batted an eyelash. But that was before he had children to look after, before his world had become more than just himself. It felt like _dying_ , like leaving Amestris meant _never_ coming back. And even though Al was there, and many of his friends from the army were there, and his family would be going with him, it was an entirely new place, with a different language and culture, no landmarks that he knew… This whole situation made him very nervous.

Winry took a deep breath. “My Lord, my family and I would be happy to relocate to the Empire of Xing, but I have one condition I must make before I agree.” She wandered over to Ed and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “I must insist you give us three months to prepare for the move. This is all so sudden, we both need time to wrap our heads around the idea of leaving our home for good.”

The receiver was close enough for Ed to hear Ling’s reply. _“That’s no problem, Winry. In the meantime, please feel free to call this number I’m about to give you. I want you to give my assistant a list of anything you might need- supplies, tools, materials, even paper and pencils if you need it. Whatever you need to open the academy here, let Mingxia know. It will be here when you arrive. I’ll send drawings of the building and you tell us what to put where.”_

“Sounds wonderful, your highness. I look forward to seeing you again. I imagine we’ll be coming after the first of the year.”

_“We’ll be sure to have everything ready. And you’ll be here to celebrate with us when the princess is born!”_

“Of course we will!” Winry wished the Empress an easy pregnancy and told Ling to give their love to Zixin and their nieces Su and Li, and then she hung up the phone. She turned her blue eyes toward him and his fears were eased a little.

“I don’t need that _ki_ thing to know when you’re terrified. Want to talk about it?”

Ed shook his head as he pulled her into his lap. “He just made it seem like we had to leave right away or give him a definite answer right then. Guess there’s not going to be a discussion about this?”

Her fingertips lightly touched the skin around his throat and collarbones. “I thought maybe we could fool around a little… Then we could talk about it afterward once you’re calmer?”

His hand slid up the length of her thigh, under the hem of her knee length dress. “Ling asked me if marriage had calmed me down any. But when you start talking about fooling around, I get fired up every time.” He reached back to squeeze her bottom, watching as she bit her bottom lip. “If we’re going to be leaving in a few months, we should probably play it safe. Moving’s hard enough without you being pregnant…”

“Then how about we compromise…” She leaned down and whispered in his ear that if he were to ‘go down for a feast’ that he could ‘use the back exit’, and ‘save the rubbers for a rainy day’.

He turned her head and kissed her deeply, his right hand groping her bottom. “Well, moving to Xing will at least give us an excuse to be a little adventurous, right?” he said with a grin, guiding her to stand. “Let’s hurry before the kids wake up from their nap.” He disconnected the phone cord from the phone before leaving the office, thinking perhaps starting a new life in Xing wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

* * *

 

**_THE END_ **

 

**_THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!_ **


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